Remember Me
by AnotherSentimentalFool
Summary: How would the events of Pride and Prejudice be altered if Fitzwilliam Darcy had the foreknowledge that Elizabeth Bennet was his future wife and perfect match? AU/Regency
1. Chapter 1

How would the events of Pride and Prejudice be altered if Fitzwilliam Darcy had the foreknowledge that Elizabeth Bennet was his future wife and perfect match? AU/Regency

Remember Me

_Prologue_

August 1801

Pemberly, Derbyshire

Anne Darcy lay in bed trying to get some much needed rest. Recently sleep had been elusive, broken by fits of coughing and gasps for air. Her wracking coughs could be heard beyond the room that had been her home for many, many months.

Turning on her side, Anne stared towards the darkened window, her thoughts full of her family, especially her son, Fitzwilliam.

She sighed softly. She knew her time was short. The birth of Georgiana 4 years previously had taken its toll on her already frail health. The doctors had warned her that she should not attempt to have another child after the two miscarriages following the birth of Fitzwilliam. Despite all the doctors warnings, she had longed to have another child. She had prayed unceasingly for a daughter. After many years of hoping and praying, she had at last conceived and born her long awaited daughter.

The birth had been long and difficult, and there had been moments when Anne had thought she would not survive. She recovered, but not without cost. Her already frail health had become permanently damaged. Her frequent bouts of illness had slowly sapped what little strength she had. Each subsequent illness left her weaker until she was but a shell of her former self.

She wanted desperately to be able to see her children grow, marry and have children of their own; to grow old with her beloved husband, George. The price she paid to have Georgiana had been great, but even now, lying on her deathbed she couldn't regret her desire for another child. Her sacrifice would allow her precious daughter a chance at life.

Her only regret was her deception, her concealment of how she _knew_ her George was hers. Her best friend, her husband, lover and confidant. Their 18 years of marriage had been blissful, punctuated with disagreements and challenges. It was inevitable with two such stubborn and independent individuals. Anne smiled, closing her eyes as she reminisced about the past; her triumphs, heartaches, sorrows; but more especially her utter contentment and happiness with the life she _knew_ was meant to have.

Since Anne was a child, she had been blessed with dreams, visions of the future. 'Prophetic dreams' her father called them. At the request of her parents, no one outside of her family knew. She never spoke of them to anyone. They were infrequent enough that it didn't affect her growing up years. It was not until she was 14 years old that she had a 'dream' that would set the course of her life. At first, it was simply brief glimpses of a man punctuated with flashes of various scenes and settings-a ballroom, a salon, a bedroom. They were fleeting, but the feelings she experienced during these 'dreams' were ones of contentment and happiness. She was frustrated that she was not able to hold onto many details, but she knew, even then that this man would be important in her life. She dreamt of him three or four times a month, always the same brief glimpses that had left her frustrated and wanting more.

It continued like this for nearly six months until an event occurred that changed her carefully arranged world. Her father died suddenly, leaving her mother, brother and sister in shock and pain. In her grief she felt a longing so fierce for anything that would bring her consolation that her dreams of the man became more poignant and detailed. In addition to 'seeing' this man, she began to receive more detailed glimpses of her life with him. She knew then that he was the man she was meant to marry. She spent her grieving period drawing this man, altering it each day until it was exactly as she saw him in her dreams. And then she put it away and waited.

She waited for almost three years for that man to enter her life. In her first season at the age of 17, George Darcy waltzed into her life. Their courtship was brief and idyllic. Within six months they were married and life for Anne had truly begun. Stating that he would not understand, her mother warned her not to tell her new husband about her dreams and the picture she had drawn of him. Not wanting to start her marriage under a deception, Anne had argued with her mother. It was not until her elder brother Henry, the new Earl of Matlock, entered the argument that Anne conceded not to divulge her 'dreams' to her new husband. So Anne locked away the picture and began her marriage without sharing it with George. It was the only time she had ever concealed anything from him. Within two years she was expecting and with the birth of her son, Fitzwilliam her life was complete.

As the years passed, Anne began to have 'dreams' again. From these dreams, she knew that there was another child that was meant to complete their small family. Following two devastating miscarriages, and the doctors prognosis that another child would take her life; her dream to have another child seemed unreachable. Distraught, Anne had refused to believe the doctors, clinging to the knowledge that she would have another child. She had pled with her husband to try again, to no avail. He would not risk her health. In her desperation, she had shared with her husband that which she had long kept a secret, her knowledge of her husband before she had met him and how she knew they would have another child. Her revelation had been met with disbelief, reproach, and even ridicule. He argued that she had simply made it up in order to convince him that they should have another child. Even after showing him the picture she had drawn three years before meeting him had been disregarded as 'hogwash.'

It had taken years for Anne to fully trust her husband again. She still loved him fiercely, but had been deeply wounded by his disbelief and mistrust. She never spoke of her dreams again. When Anne became pregnant once again, her joy was unmatched. With each ensuing month of pregnancy, she was content that her dream would be realized.

A soft knock on the door broke Anne from her reverie. Her ladies maid entered with a tray of her midnight dosage of medicine. Anne struggled to sit up, coughing violently. Her maid hurried to her mistresses side, setting the tray down hurriedly before assisting her to sit up. Taking the dosage of medicine, Anne sank wearily back against the pillows, exhausted with the simple task.

"Were you able to sleep, Mrs Darcy?" her maid softly inquired.

"No, I was not," Anne sighed. "My mind is too much on my family. I will miss them so."

The maid nodded, but didn't respond. What could she say to ease her mistresses obvious distress?

Anne smiled and thanked her for her service. After inquiring if Anne required anything else, she quietly left her mistress to her thoughts.

As she walked down the hallway, the maid prayed that her mistress would receive some respite and that her family would be comforted in these final days.

After the maid left, Anne's thoughts wandered again to her son. Her Fitzwilliam. She fought back tears as she thought of all she would miss in the coming years. He was so good, her Fitzwilliam. So devoted to his family, loyal, kind and responsible. Even at sixteen years of age, he was more mature than other young men his age. She knew her progressively weakened state distressed him. Her failing health had caused her once care free son to become more serious and reflective. She could not remember the last time he had laughed, truly laughed. A boy of 16 should not have such a heavy burden to bear. Despite his pain, he unselfishly spent hours with her, reading to her, talking, or just sitting in silence. His presence comforted her and he willingly gave whatever time he could.

He would attend Cambridge in a few years. Due to her fragile health, he had not wanted to leave home to be schooled as most boys of his station. He had been tutored from home so he could remain close to her, close to Georgiana.

Georgiana. Her precious, precious girl. Even at four years of age, she bore a striking resemblance to Anne. She was worth every pain, every tear, every prayer offered. No sacrifice was too great to give her special girl life. Georgiana did not fully understand the gravity of her mother's illness. She would dance into her mother's room each day to show her a picture she had drawn, or to share with her what she had learned that day. Her mindless, girlish chatter filling the room eased her heart. She was so full of light, her Georgiana. A ray of sunshine in her otherwise bleak, pain filled days. She made Anne forget her illness for a time.

For the first time in her life she wished for her dreams. She wanted to 'see' her children happy. To see their life since she would not be able to share it with them. A few stray tears slipped down her wan cheeks as Anne began to pray. In the midst of her pleadings to her God she quietly succumbed to sleep.

Anne woke with a start, sitting up quickly, her mind in a whirl. At last! She needed to get it down before she forgot. The remnants of her dream already starting to fade, she quickly reached for the bell beside her bed and rang loudly. Within moments, her maid burst in her room afraid that something had happened.

"Quickly! I need paper and my drawing pencils!" Anne did not give her maid the time to greet her. Trying to climb out of bed, her startled maid rushed to her side. "No Mrs Darcy! Please don't get up." Anne, gasping for air fell upon the bed in frustration.

"Please, hurry! I don't have much time!"

"Ma'am?" the maid asked with confusion evident in her voice.

"Paper and my drawing pencils, Abigail!" At the shocked look of her maid, she softened her tone. "Please, I don't have much time." I must get this down before it starts to fade, Anne thought frantically.

"Of course Mrs Darcy, I will get those right away." Bobbing a curtsey, her maid quickly went into her mistresses sitting room.

Moments later she returned with the needed materials. Placing the portable writing desk, paper and drawing pencils on her mistresses lap, she quietly asked if there was anything else she required.

Grabbing a pencil, Anne positioned the paper and began to draw. Brusquely she said "No, thank you Abigail. That will be all. You may go."

The maid left, confusion clearly on her face. Anne paid no mind to her maid as she quickly and quietly left the room. Her maid forgotten, Anne began to draw the lovely woman that had appeared in her dreams.

Hours later, Anne slumped against the pillows and closed her eyes in exhaustion. Several times she had been interrupted by various persons trying to get her to rest and take her medicine. She had ignored them all as she had feverishly sketched, desperate to get the woman down on paper before the image faded from her mind. Even the soft and gentle pleadings of her husband had been met with nothing but a brief acknowledgement.

Anne sat up and looked at her drawing, checking for any flaws or defects from the woman she had seen so clearly in her dream. Anne wished she had time to add color. Pencil could not capture the richness of her dark mahogany hair or her beautiful brown eyes, her best feature. They lit up her face with intelligence and good humor. She had spent the most time trying to get the woman's eyes just right.

"Perfect. She's perfect," Anne softly murmured to herself. Anne knew that this woman was her Fitzwilliam's perfect match. She had seen this clearly in her dream. Anne smiled contentedly.

All she needed to do now was share with her son her secret. She had decided to tell him everything, including her decision to conceal her dreams from her husband and his reaction to her dreams. She didn't want Fitzwilliam to make the same mistake she did. Putting aside the drawing she finally allowed herself to sleep.

Fitzwilliam Darcy strode quickly down the hall towards his mother's room once more wondering what brought on her summons during his studies with his tutor. She never interrupted his lessons and he was left wondering if something was wrong despite the housekeeper's assurances to the contrary.

Coming to her door, he quietly knocked and waited for her to call him in. After a soft, "come in Fitzwilliam" he pushed open the door and hurried to his mother's bedside.

"What is the matter mother, are you well?" Fitzwilliam dreaded the day when a summons would mean his mother was saying goodbye. He knew that she was very ill and despite the doctor's warning that she had very little time left, he hoped and prayed that the doctor was wrong. He could not imagine his life without his mother in it. She was his anchor, his confidant, his best friend. She was the one who understood him the best. His father tried, but he was all about duty and responsibility. He knew his father loved him, was proud of him but he had certain expectations and he did not take the time to truly know him. His mother was different. She saw him, not as what was expected, but as he truly was. Despite his flaws, she loved him unconditionally.

His mother was sitting up in bed holding a paper in her hand. Fitzwilliam paused, searching his mother's face. Something was different about her today. Despite the lack of a smile on her face, her eyes betrayed a nervous excitement.

"Pull up a chair Fitzwilliam, I have something very important to share with you."

Sitting down, Fitzwilliam took his mother's hand and waited.

Looking at her son, Anne took a deep breath and began her story.

Fitzwilliam sat in his darkened room, lightened by a single candle. The shadows from the candle danced erratically on the walls, mirroring his jumbled thoughts. He thought over the conversation, _the confession_ his mother had imparted earlier that day.

Truth be told, he didn't know what to think. On one hand, he trusted his mother implicitly, she had never misguided him before. But what she had shared seemed so fantastical, so unlike anything he had ever heard before.

He stared down at the two pieces of paper, one in each hand. The paper in his left depicted his father. He had always thought his mother was a gifted artist, her renderings so lifelike they seemed to come off the page. He remembered the countless times his mother had sketched his sister and himself.

His father was portrayed accurately down to his signature smile and serious eyes. He must have been about 28 when the picture was drawn.

"Could it be possible?" Fitzwilliam shook his head, clearing away his doubt and misgivings. He wanted, _needed_ to believe his mother's story.

His eyes wandered automatically to the picture in his right hand. He gazed at her in wonder and awe. She was beautiful. Even his inexperience and lack of familiarity with the opposite sex, he knew this was so.

The woman's body was facing slightly left, with her head turned toward the front. Her hair was down, an abundance of curls flowing down her back. What struck him the most was her eyes. They were full of laughter and mirth, sparkling with good humor and intelligence. His mother said that her eyes were a deep brown and her hair a dark mahogany. Her lips were slightly parted and she appeared to be about to say something. Judging by the sparkle in her eyes, something amusing. Fitzwilliam smiled.

"Can this really be the woman I am meant to marry?' He couldn't wrap his mind around it. He couldn't deny what his mother had told him about his father. The picture in his hand confirmed his mother's account. No, it had to be true.

Setting down the picture of his father, he gazed at the drawing of the woman, tracing her face lightly with a finger. His mother had given him very little information about the woman. The only thing she could say for certain was she kept seeing this woman at a ball; specifically his Aunt and Uncle's Twelfth Night Ball. They held it every year and was one of the most sought after events of the ton.

"Who are you?" He whispered. "Where are you?" Despite his mother's assurances that she would show up in his life when the time was right, he worried that he would miss her somehow. That she would marry before he could meet her, or she would not even like him! He quickly banished that thought.

Shaking his head he stood up, picking up his father's picture and the candle, he walked to the hidden safe in his dressing room. Kneeling down, he opened the safe and carefully placed his father's picture inside. Holding the woman's picture carefully in both hands he quietly whispered, "I will find you. Wait for me."


	2. Chapter 2

AN: You guys are amazing! I am humbled by the interest that I've received thus far and I hope that I don't disappoint! I apologize if this seems like a filler chapter. I wanted to show the nature of Darcy and Richard's relationship. Besides I love Col Fitzwilliam and he is so fun to write!

Enjoy!

March 1812

Chapter 1

Darcy sat at his desk in his London townhome surrounded by correspondence, mostly consisting of invitations for the London Season.

"Why do they persist in inviting me to these confounded events? I never attend, nor am I about to," Darcy grumbled.

Frustrated, Darcy impatiently pushed the pile to the side of his desk, causing several to fall to the floor. Sitting back in his chair he ran his fingers through his already disheveled hair.

Another year and still she hadn't come. Darcy had faithfully attended every Twelfth Night Ball, but one since he turned 18 years of age. He was not expecting to meet her in those early years when he was still green, marriage and courtship the last thing on his mind. But after he had graduated from Cambridge and became Master of Pemberly he had expected her to show up. He went to the blasted ball every year, why couldn't she!

Darcy paused his internal ranting, remembering the one time he hadn't attended. He had missed the ball 5 years ago as his father had just passed away and he had not been in a festive mood.

What if that was when he was supposed to meet her? He had been 22 and had just graduated from Cambridge. "What if I missed my chance?" Not for the first time Darcy lamented not asking his mother more particulars about the circumstances of him meeting her. The only thing she had said was she would be at his Aunt Matlock's Twelfth Night Ball. Darcy realized that she hadn't said that was where he would meet her. He groaned, running his hands through his hair, pulling at the ends. It was getting too long, he should have his valet cut it.

So where was she? It had become apparent quickly that she could not be a member of the ton. After 8 years of intermingling with the simpering, swooning debutantes he realized he could never love one of _them_. Their sycophantic posturing disgusted him. The only thing worse than the ladies were their mothers. Darcy shuddered. No, she was not one of them.

He had been so hopeful this year. That this year she would come. Darcy pushed himself to his feet and began pacing in front of his desk. Stopping in front of the window, he gazed out to the rain drenched garden. How fitting that the weather should reflect his mood.

It was in this manner that his cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam found him.

Pausing in the doorway he took in the scene before him. Darcy was standing in front of the window gazing outside. Hands behind his back, a grave, no grim expression on his face. Richard smiled to himself. His cousin was predictable to a fault.

Sighing, Richard walked into the room much in the way of a soldier entering a battlefield. He had something very important to say to Darcy and he knew that he would have to tread very carefully to prevent Darcy from shutting down completely.

Darcy turned from the window at his cousin's approach.

"Richard, this is an unexpected surprise." Darcy smiled in welcome. Richard noticed it didn't reach his eyes.

Settling himself in one of the armchairs by the fire he stretched his long legs out in front of him, resting his hands on his stomach. "Not unwelcome I hope."

"Please, make yourself comfortable Richard," Darcy dryly stated.

"I always do, cousin." Richard grinned up at Darcy. "Please sit Darcy, my neck can't take the strain."

Darcy sat down across from Richard with a huff. "Why do I get the feeling I am about to be interrogated?"

"Darcy, I don't interrogate, I intimidate." Darcy glared at his cousin. "When has that ever worked with me, Richard?"

"Never," he honestly stated, "But that's never stopped me from trying."

Darcy leaned forward in his chair towards Richard. "Before you ask Richard, no, she did not come." Darcy leaned back and waited for the inevitable dialogue. It had become routine these past years. The nature of Richard's work with the Army prevented him from coming home often. In the past 7 years he had been in London once during Christmas and his mother's Twelfth Night Ball.

"I know."

"What do you mean, you _know_?"

Richard rolled his eyes. "Darcy, if you had found your lady love I don't think I would have found you glowering in the corner."

"I don't glower Richard."

"Of course you don't."

"Why did I ever confide in you?" Darcy had shared with Richard what his mother had told him and shown him the two pictures shortly after his father had died.

"If I had a pound for every time you said that I would not need to risk life and limb for kin and country."

"Your sarcasm is not appreciated Richard, I assure you. I am assuming there is a reason for your visit?" Darcy was starting to lose patience and that didn't bode well for their conversation.

"Do I need a reason to visit my favorite cousin?" Richard smiled benignly at Darcy.

"Georgiana is your favorite cousin, Richard, and you're prevaricating."

Richard sighed, sitting up and placing his hands on his knees. Maybe he should wait until his cousin wasn't in such a foul mood. Richard gazed steadily at his cousin. Darcy had been his dearest friend and confidant since childhood. There was nothing he would not do for him. He could not watch him spiral downward in misery. Besides, he had promised Georgiana. No, he could not wait any longer.

Bracing himself, he quietly said, "We're worried about you."

"Who's we?" Darcy was stunned. Of all the things he was expecting Richard to say, that certainly had not been one of them.

"Georgiana and myself, of course."

"I'm fine." Darcy said curtly. Standing up he went over to his desk and began absentmindedly going through his stacks of correspondence.

"Now who's prevaricating." Richard stood and joined him at the front of his desk. Placing both hands on the desk, he said "You need to listen to what I have to say. Please."

Darcy looked up. Seeing the earnest and worried expression in his cousin's eyes caused him to pause. Richard had been the only person he had fully trusted to confide his mother's secret. To Richard's credit, he hadn't doubted for one moment what Darcy had told him so many years ago. Since then, he had been nothing but supportive and encouraging. It was due to Richard that Darcy hadn't succumbed to hopelessness long ago.

"Very well Richard," Darcy conceded. "We might as well be comfortable." Gesturing to the chairs by the fire, Darcy moved to sit. Richard quickly followed but soon stood and began pacing.

Darcy waited. He knew he probably would not like whatever Richard had to say. Darcy was a very private person, rarely sharing his thoughts and feelings with anyone. He hadn't been so open with someone since his...mother. Darcy quickly stopped that line of thought. He needed to focus on Richard right now.

"Darcy..." Richard began, then stopped running a hand through his hair.

It amused Darcy that Richard was nervous. Richard was never nervous. He was the most confident individual he had ever met.

"Just spit it out Richard if it's so unpleasant."

Richard sat down and leaned casually back in his chair, his posture the exact opposite of his cousin's upright and stiff pose.

"Here's the thing, Darcy," Richard began. "Outwardly you appear to be fine. You are a perfect example of decorum, responsibility, and duty. Your father would be proud."

"I'm confused Richard. If I'm fine, then what are you and Georgiana so worried about?"

"I said outwardly, you are fine. We are concerned for your emotional health."

"My emotional health?" Darcy repeated, shocked.

Richard solemnly nodded then continued. "You are starting to shut me and Georgiana out Darcy. She says that you have barely spoken to her since Mother's ball."

Darcy stood and began pacing. He felt angry, angry at Richard for prying into his life. But he also felt remorse and guilt. He _had_ shut out Georgiana. He hadn't wanted to vent his frustrations out on her. He cared about her too much to let her see this side of him.

"Darcy, you are merely existing. When are you going to start to live?"

"What?" Darcy was astounded. "What do you mean, I am _merely_ existing? I live my life each day, just like everyone else."

"No, you do not." Shaking his head, Richard stood and joined Darcy. Placing a hand on his shoulder he said, "When was the last time you left this house for any other reason then to conduct business or ferry Georgiana about town?"

Darcy took a minute to think. When _was_ the last time he had left the house? A minute went by, then two as Darcy silently stood considering his cousin's observation.

"Darcy, I know that you are frustrated that another Twelfth Night Ball has passed and she hasn't come. But did you ever stop to consider that maybe you were not meant to meet her at the ball? I don't think your mother intended for you to just sit back and wait for her to make an appearance. What are you doing to find her?"

Richard watched as an array of emotions played across Darcy's face; anger, sadness, grief, and finally realization.

"I did consider that Richard. I realized that mother hadn't said I would meet her at a ball, just that she saw her there."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

Darcy threw up his hands in exasperation. "What am I supposed to do Richard? Go door to door, place her picture in the Times with a request to come at her earliest convenience?"

Richard laughed. "Nothing so extreme cousin. You could try attending some of those balls and dinners." Richard pointed to the impressive stack of invitations on Darcy's desk.

Darcy looked at his cousin incredulously. "I am not amused Richard. When have I _ever_ attended any event of the season?"

"Exactly!" Richard exclaimed. "Which brings me to another acute observation."

"And I'm breathlessly waiting." Darcy was not in the mood for this. He wanted to go talk to Georgiana and apologize for his behavior these past few weeks. Besides, this line of questioning was making him uncomfortable. He didn't like it when Richard delved into his emotional state. Nothing good could come of it he was sure.

"I spoke to my mother last night, and do you know what she said?"

Darcy didn't say anything, knowing Richard would continue.

Richard leaned forward. "She said that invitations to her Twelfth Night Ball have become more valuable than a voucher at Almacks!"

Darcy's eyebrows raised slightly. "Oh? That is...interesting."

"Isn't it? And do you want to know why?" Richard had the silliest grin on his face. He was enjoying this far too much.

"I don't have a clue what you are referring to Richard. Please get to the point."

Richard grin grew even wider if that was possible. "You," he simply stated. Leaning back in his chair he waited.

"What do you mean, me?"

"For someone so intelligent, you are really very slow today."

Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose suddenly feeling very tired. He could feel the start of a headache coming on.

"Richard, as amusing as this conversation is becoming, I really have things I need to do."

"Like what? As much time as you spend in this study, I can guarantee you have no pressing matters. Besides, you will want to hear this."

"Go on, explain to me how _I_ am the cause of your mother's ball becoming so popular."

"Let me ask you a question first."

Darcy nodded for him to go on. "When was the last time you attended any social event besides my mother's Twelfth Night Ball?"

Without hesitation, Darcy responded, "Bingley's dinner party last November."

"Let me rephrase that question. When was the last time you attended any social event during the Season?"

Darcy huffed, "You already know the answer to that Richard. Never. I have _never _attended any event of the social season."

Richard smirked. "That is why my mother's ball is so popular."

Richard watched as Darcy put together what was so blatantly obvious.

Darcy processed what Richard had just shared. Why in the world should he make such a difference? He was pleased to hear that Aunt Matlock's ball was so popular. He knew that she loved to entertain and she had always been the consummate hostess.

Darcy frowned. This last ball had been a trifle uncomfortable. It had been a crush, so many people, too many people really. And for one who did not enjoy balls, the overabundance of people was insupportable. He remembered when the ball had been much more intimate; relegated to close friends and of course, family. Now it was anything but. He had noticed an increase of invites the last 4 or 5 years. Darcy rubbed his jaw. He had been afraid that the increase of people would make it harder to find _her_. He had even foregone dancing this past ball in fear that he would miss finding her, not that it had made any difference, he thought bitterly.

What had really irked him was the simpering misses, all vying for his attention. It had been sickening really not to mention the open flirting that had been displayed by both the daughters and even some of their mothers. Despite his repeatedly stating his desire to not dance, they had flocked to him all throughout the night trying to coerce him to dance through subtle and not so subtle means. He had actually contemplated leaving early when it had been apparent that _she_ wasn't going to show up.

"Figured it out yet?" Richard's query interrupted Darcy's thoughts.

"I don't understand Richard, what this has to do with my so called _emotional health_?"

"Believe it or not, I am trying to help you."

"Then help me and stop speaking in riddles!"

"Very well, I will speak plainly. Darcy, would you say that you are a...how shall I put it, a catch?"

"Richard, please what does my eligibility have to do with anything?"

"I'm getting to that. Now answer the question. Are you a catch?"

Exasperated, Darcy replied, "Yes, I suppose I could be considered a catch."

"Very good. Now are you willing to be ah...caught?"

"Of course not! I am not interested in any of those fluttering floozies! When _she_ shows up I will pursue her, court her and marry her."

"Of that I have no doubt Darcy. But do those ah...fluttering floozies know that you are not willing to be caught?"

"I have never given any of them that idea. If they persist in pursuing me they will only end up disappointed."

"My point exactly Darcy. You are an enigma.. A mystery that they are all wanting to unlock. There are bets you know about when you will show interest in one of them."

"What?! You have got to be joking Richard. There is no way I could generate that much interest to warrant something so, so degrading!" Darcy was incensed. When had his private life become fodder for idle men to speculate on? This was why he didn't attend events during the season.

"Calm down Darcy," Richard held his hands up in a conciliatory manner. "It happens all the time, this is nothing new."

"That doesn't make it right, Richard!"

"No, it does not. But it happens and it will continue to happen. But that is besides the point. The point, my dear cousin is you only pop up from your self imposed exile _once_ every year." Richard stopped, wanting Darcy to put it together.

He didn't disappoint. "Are you saying that the reason your mother's ball is so well attended every year is because it is the only event I attend and the ton want to, how did you put it, unlock the mystery that is Fitzwilliam Darcy?"

"Ah, my faith in your intelligence has been restored."

"This is a nightmare, Richard! Why can't they just leave me alone?"

"Because you are young, handsome, rich, and most importantly, available."

"But I'm not, not really." Darcy responded quietly.

"I know that, you know that, but they don't. The idea of you is too fantastic to give up. Each of those young women are convinced that they are the one meant for you. Until you actually choose one of them, the pursuit will continue. And it will get worse. There are more young misses coming out every year."

"I can't help that Richard. I can only continue to remain apart as I have always done."

"Which brings me back to my original point. You don't know that you will meet your future wife at the Twelfth Night Ball. You admit that your mother did not say you would meet her there, only that she saw her there."

Darcy nodded, "Go on."

"So, here is what I think. I believe that events will transpire that will lead _you_ to invite her to mother's ball yourself." At Darcy's surprised look, Richard held up a hand forestalling him from interrupting. "And in order to do that, you need to be seen. You need to start attending those contemptible events. You never know when one of them will lead you to her. You need to take the initiative Darcy. Like I said before I don't think your mother anticipated you sitting around waiting for her to arrive."

Darcy ran his hands through his hair, he really needed to get it cut. "You may be right, Richard. But what if I've already messed up? What if I was supposed to meet her last year? Or the year I didn't attend due to father's death?" Darcy voiced his fears for the first time.

"Don't think like that Darcy. Your mother said she would come when the time was right."

"So how do I know the time is right? Why now?"

"Well that depends on you." At his cousin's confused look, he said, "Maybe fate is waiting for you to take a hand in your own destiny. Do you have the faith to make this a reality? How much do you want it? You have two choices Darcy. You can continue like you have been, attend my mother's Twelfth Night Ball every January, fall in a depression for months after, sequestering yourself away from everyone and everything, or you can take control of your destiny. Fortune favors the brave Darcy! Get out there and find her!"

Darcy slumped against the seat, feeling defeated, "You're right Richard. I can't continue like this. It isn't fair to you and especially Georgiana."

Darcy stood and went back to his desk. Staring down at the stack of invitations, he cringed. Could he really do this? He had avoided these events like the plague for a reason. At the time, his reasoning seemed justified. He didn't need to attend the events of the season. He already knew who he would marry. He would attend his aunt's annual ball, she would be there and things would proceed as things generally did-courtship, then marriage. It was difficult to see so clearly now the flaw in this plan.

"It's really not so bad cousin." Richard came and stood next to him. "It's like a loose tooth. It hurts something fierce when you first pull it, but then the pain is gone."

Richard looked at Darcy. "Pull the tooth cousin. It will get easier."

Darcy took a deep breath, reached for the stack and started to go through them. He quickly sorted them into two piles, one for dinners and the other for balls.

"I think it makes more sense to attend a few balls. More people." Richard gestured toward the smaller pile.

"I suppose. Which ones, though? And don't you say all of them Richard. There is a limit to my forbearance."

"How about we start with, say, three?" Richard suggested.

"Very well. Three it is." Darcy quickly went through the invites to balls, shaking his head. He tossed them all down on the desk. "You choose, it makes no difference to me."

"Hmmm...let's see." Richard quickly went through the stack. "I wouldn't attend Morton's ball unless I had no other options." He quickly eliminated two others. That left 8. He fanned them like playing cards and held them up to Darcy. "Choose three."

"So we're really going to leave fate in my hands?" Darcy quipped.

Smiling, Richard responded, "I have faith in you cousin."

Taking a deep breath, Darcy quickly choose three. Handing them to Richard he went and sat behind his desk. Pulling out his calendar he asked, "So, what do we have?"

After putting the dates of the balls in his calendar, he shut it and looked up at Richard. He was smirking. He sat across from Darcy with his hands laced behind his head.

"Pleased are we?"

"Very."

"I am sorry that I have been so difficult. I didn't mean for my behavior to affect you and Georgiana so much."

"You're forgiven. Although it might take a little more groveling on your part before Georgiana forgives you."

"I'll go talk to her right now. Thank you for being such a good friend Richard. I really do appreciate it."

"Think nothing of it cousin. Be happy, that's all I ask."

Standing up he headed towards the door. At the door he turned saying, "Oh and Darcy, you will be expected to dance at these balls, and be sociable. You might want to brush up on your social skills." With a smile and a wink in his astonished cousin's direction he took his leave.

"What did I just get myself into?" Darcy murmured to himself. Shaking his head he left his study to go find and apologize to Georgiana. He had some groveling to do.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Elizabeth Bennet watched the sunrise from the top of Oakham Mount, the highest point near her home of Longbourn. Taking a deep breath of the cool morning air she drew her shawl closer to her body for additional warmth as she gazed out at the surrounding vista below her. She relished the time she spent during her morning walks. The frequent rain had prevented her from venturing outside in over a week. Upon waking that morning to the absence of the rain, she had quickly dressed and grabbed her shawl. The path towards her favorite vista had been muddy, but she didn't mind a little mud. Although her mother would surely admonish her for the state of her petticoat. At the thought of her mother, Elizabeth frowned. Even out of doors, her mother's harsh voice sought to overcome her peaceful reverie. Shaking her head as if to rid herself of a bothersome insect, Elizabeth let her mind wander towards more pleasant things.

At this moment in time, Elizabeth was perfectly content. Truth be told, there were very few moments when Elizabeth was not content. Her character was such that she could find amusement and enjoyment out of every situation. Her life was simple, but valuable. Her family and small circle of acquaintances she cherished and added to the richness of her life. Indeed, Elizabeth Bennet could not imagine life getting any better.

Blessed with a bright and happy disposition, as a child she had been extremely precocious and inquisitive which had caused her mother unending displeasure and her father unending delight. Her mother was constantly lamenting why Elizabeth could not be more demure like her elder sister, Jane. To her mother, Jane was the ideal woman and daughter. Despite her mother's clear favoritism, Jane was all that was good and kind. Elizabeth's father was the only one that truly understood and appreciated her wit and intelligence. At an early age, Mr Bennet had discovered that his second eldest had a keen intellect so he had nurtured her love of learning. Teaching her had been one of the few joys he experienced in his ever increasingly chaotic household.

Elizabeth took another deep breath of cool morning air and turned to head back home. The household would be up soon and she didn't want to risk her mother's displeasure.

Approaching the house, Elizabeth paused to determine if her mother was indeed awake, managing her domain. Not hearing her mother's strident tone, she entered the house through the front door. Removing her shawl and bonnet, she entered the breakfast room. Her father was the only family member seated at the table reading the morning newspaper. Upon entering, Elizabeth greeted her father before helping herself at the sideboard.

"Out again, my Lizzy?" inquired Mr Bennet glancing up from his paper.

Elizabeth smiled and took her seat next to her father. "Of course. You didn't think a little mud and cool air would keep me indoors?"

"Let us hope your morning walk went unnoticed by your mother." Mr Bennet stood and with a raised eyebrow and a wink headed towards his study.

Elizabeth didn't get to enjoy her breakfast in solitude for long before her mother entered with her four sisters. Kitty and Lydia entered arguing over a ribbon, Mary with her nose in a book and Jane with her usual smile. Elizabeth held her breath as her mother spied her sitting at the table. Besides her customary frown reserved especially for her second eldest, nothing was out of the ordinary. Elizabeth envied her father's timely exit.

Jane sat besides Elizabeth and leaning over, whispered, "I distracted mama for you this morning until I heard you come in." Elizabeth gave her sister a grateful smile. "Let's hope I can escape upstairs before she spies the state of my petticoat or hears I went out in nothing but a shawl."

"Maybe something will transpire which will divert her attention." Before Jane could say anything else, their mother interrupted. "And where were you this morning, Lizzy? I hope you didn't go on one of your walks this morning, what with all this mud! I am sure this cold air cannot be good for your health."

Before Elizabeth could answer, Mary said, "I was able to copy that new duet from Maria Lucas if you would like to go over it with me later this morning."

"With pleasure, Mary," with a grateful look, she added, "Thank you." Elizabeth was always surprised and extremely grateful when her sisters came to her aid in deflecting their mother's disapproval of her walks in particular and Elizabeth in general. Elizabeth knew that her mother loved and cared for her, deep down but she had little patience with a daughter she could not understand. Her mother favored Jane for her extreme beauty and Lydia for her high spirited temperament, although Elizabeth would describe her youngest sister's behavior as indulged.

Mary's timely interruption was enough for her mother's attention to be engaged with her two youngest sisters who were still arguing over a ribbon. Her mother's shrill, "Oh! Let her have it Kitty! All this arguing is making my head ache!" put an end to the dispute. With a cry, Kitty exclaimed, "But it is mine! I paid for it with the last of my pin money! It's not fair that she should have everything that is mine!" With a sob, Kitty fled the breakfast room. Jane quickly followed her distressed sister to offer consolation and the offer to borrow one of her ribbons.

Elizabeth, noticing that Lydia had a smug expression on her face said, "Lydia, you already have a ribbon that exact shade. That was unkind of you to take what rightfully belonged to Kitty."

"Oh, but it isn't the same Lizzy," protested Lydia, "This ribbon is at least a half inch wider than mine and will look so much better on my bonnet." Lydia waved the offending ribbon in front of her sister. With a sly look, she continued, "Besides, I'm not the only one who is unkind."

"Whatever do you mean Lydia?"

"Why, you being unkind to poor mama's nerves by going out of doors in all this mud!" With a triumphant smirk, Lydia flounced out of the room.

With a slight groan, Elizabeth turned to look at her mother to gage her reaction. Unfortunately for Elizabeth, her mother had heard Lydia's parting remark. Her mother's face turned an unbecoming shade of red and Elizabeth braced herself for the inevitable argument.

Elizabeth was not disappointed. "Lizzy! How could you? How you try my nerves, you ungrateful child!" Elizabeth bore her mother's remonstration's as she always did, with patience and forbearance, which was extremely easy to do when one was not even listening to their mother's admonishment. Elizabeth's mind wandered to her morning walk and the peace and contentment she had felt. "Lizzy! Are you even listening to me?" Her mother's piercing voice cut into Elizabeth's thoughts.

"Of course, mama," responded Elizabeth.

" Oh! You take delight in vexing me!"

With an exasperated huff, she responded, "I do _not_ take delight in vexing you mama, but I do believe you take delight in being vexed." As soon as Elizabeth uttered the words she knew she had finally gone too far. Her mother was speechless for a moment before she started screeching. "You impertinent chit! I wash my hands of you Elizabeth Bennet!" With that scornful remark her mother quit the room.

Elizabeth looked at Mary who had been calmly reading her book despite the chaos surrounding her. Upon perceiving her sister's gaze, Mary glanced up and with a sigh closed her book. "You know you deserved that Lizzy. Whatever made you say such a thing to mama?"

"I don't know Mary," Elizabeth said exasperated, " I know I should have been more tolerant with her, but she gets on my nerves!" Mary laughed. "I am sorry that you have to put up with her disapprobation Lizzy. I know it isn't easy." With a rueful smile, Elizabeth said, "No, it isn't but that is no excuse for my behavior. I'll go apologize."

"I'd wait for mama to cool down before approaching her Lizzy. No sense further risking her ire." Mary got up from the table and as she approached the door she turned and knowing her sister would need a welcome distraction, said, "How about trying that new duet?"

"Bless you Mary." With a parting smile, Mary left the room.

FEFEFEFEFEFE

Later that afternoon found the Bennet sisters in the parlor engaged in various tasks. Elizabeth and Jane were sewing, Jane much more successfully than Elizabeth. Kitty and Lydia were dressing their bonnets, and Mary was practicing the pianoforte. Her mother was currently with the housekeeper. Elizabeth brought her attention back to the handkerchief she was attempting to embroider. Her mother had been avoiding her all day. Her attempt at an apology had been met with nothing; not even an acknowledgement of her presence.

Elizabeth felt terrible for the impertinent remark she had made. Despite her mother's constant haranguing of everything and anything Elizabeth did, it was a poor excuse for her appalling behavior.

Jane reached over and gently patted Elizabeth's knee consolingly. "Don't worry Lizzy. I'm sure mama will come around soon. Her silent spells cannot last forever you know."

"I'm sure this time will be impressively long. It may last until Michaelmas with how angry she was this morning," Elizabeth said with a laugh. Her expression quickly changed from one of mirth to one of remorse. " I truly don't know what came over me Jane," Elizabeth's remorseful tone caused Jane to drop her sewing and turning to her sister she grasped her hands. "Stop this Lizzy! Mama was as much to blame as you! I honestly don't know how you have taken her lectures as long as you have. Your restraint is truly saintly Lizzy."

"Don't tease me Jane. There is nothing _saintly_ about what I said to mama." With a grin, she added, "although, I'll definitely appreciate the reprieve from her constant criticism." Before Jane could respond, their mother swept into the room, followed by Hill with a letter.

He walked up to Elizabeth and presented her with the missive. Eagerly, Elizabeth snatched up the letter with a hurried, "Thank you Hill." She had been expecting a letter from her Aunt Gardiner this past week.

"Jane, please inform your sister to read her letter out loud. There should be no secrets amongst family." Her mother settled herself in her favorite chair close to the fireplace, arranging her skirts, she fixed her unwavering stare on Elizabeth.

Elizabeth bit her lip to keep from saying any other impertinent remarks. Her mother knew how she valued correspondence with her Aunt Gardiner. To read it out loud to anyone but Jane and maybe Mary was insupportable. Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth broke the seal on her Aunt's letter.

While slowly smoothing out the letter she quickly skimmed the contents to determine if there was any information she would not want her mama to hear. Elizabeth was always very open with her Aunt, about everything. She feared that her Aunt would write something that would give her mother another reason to criticize her.

Before Elizabeth could read much it was snatched from her hand, tearing it in the process. Elizabeth looked up startled to see her mother standing over her with her torn letter in her hand. Wordlessly, Elizabeth held out her hand for the letter, a blank expression on her face. She could not trust herself to speak at this moment or show any emotion. The room was absolutely silent as Elizabeth and her mother stared at each other.

"Lydia, my love will you please read this letter?" Her mother's saccharine tone caused Elizabeth's stomach to tighten. _No!__Not Lydia_! Helplessly, Elizabeth watched as Lydia stood from her chair and with a smirk in Elizabeth's direction took the two pieces of the letter from her mother. With a toss of her head, Lydia went back to her place at the work table. Placing the two halves of the letter together on the table she leaned over and began to read.

_My Dearest Lizzy_. Lydia snorted and scoffed, "Dearest Lizzy, indeed!" Elizabeth's clenched hands were so tight she could feel her nails dig into her palms. Jane reached over and laid a gentle hand over one of Elizabeth's clenched fists. Elizabeth smiled at Jane gratefully. With a sympathetic look, Jane quietly murmured, "Just breathe, Elizabeth. All will be well."

_I hope this letter finds you well.__I was sorry to hear that the recent rains have kept you indoors; I know how much you enjoy your walks.__The weather here in London__has been damp as well; but it helps clear out the air so I cannot complain.__Your Uncle is well.__He had a slight head cold but is doing much better now.__My dear friend, Lady E sends her kind regards to you and Jane.__I had tea with her this week and she inquired about__you both.__I was pleased to be able to give her a favorable report.__I am sure it will come as no surprise to you that you made quite a favorable impression when you visited last Autumn, Lizzy!__Lady E said she couldn't remember the last time she was so diverted!__While we were talking, she suggested that I invite you and Jane to London__for part of the season. Doesn't that sound like a grand scheme?__I would love to have your company..._

Here Lydia stopped and wailed, "I want to go to London! Why do Jane and Lizzy always get to visit our Aunt? It's not fair. Mama, I want to go to London!" Before Lydia's temper could escalate further, her mother soothingly said, "You will my dear Lydia. Although you are too young to enjoy the delights of the season, you can still enjoy the shops and the theatre! Would you like that my love?"

With dawning horror, Elizabeth realized that her mother was suggesting Lydia take her place in visiting their Aunt. Before Elizabeth could protest, Jane squeezed her clenched fist, signaling her to stay silent. "Mama, the invitation is for Lizzy and myself. I don't think it would be prudent for Lydia to go when she has not been invited."

"Humph! I don't see why Lydia should not go! She is far more deserving than _some_ I know!" she said with a scathing look directed at Elizabeth. "Besides, Lydia deserves to have an outing and London will do very well." Pleased with her decision she stood to leave. "Come Lyddie, let us go to your father and see how much he will give you for new clothes." The letter forgotten, Lydia followed after her mother with a triumphant smile.

"Don't worry Lizzy, papa won't agree to mama's scheme. Just wait and see." With a final pat on Elizabeth's hand she resumed her sewing.

"Why does Lydia always get the best of everything? It's not fair." Kitty threw down her bonnet and slumped against her chair, arms crossed over her chest. "Don't sulk Kitty, it's very unbecoming," admonished Mary coming over to sit in the chair next to Elizabeth.

"Jane is right Lizzy. All will be well." Elizabeth was only half listening to her sisters. She was contemplating her mother's mood. She had never before been cruel. Unreasonable, yes. Stubborn, definitely. But never cruel. Maybe her mother had reached her limit and Elizabeth's impertinent and untimely remark that morning had finally pushed her over the edge.

"I'll go talk to papa later and we'll sort this out." Jane stood and motioned for Elizabeth to follow her. "In the meantime, I think a little fresh air would do us both good."

Going over to the table to retrieve her letter Elizabeth reluctantly followed her sister out of the room.

FEFEFEFEFEFE

Mr Bennet was an intelligent man, well read and well versed in current events. He enjoyed clever conversation and interacting with individuals who matched him in wit and intelligence. He had little patience for fools, although their behavior was a source of endless enjoyment and amusement. And with six females in his household there was ample opportunity to be amused.

The Master of Longbourn was currently sitting in his library which also served as his study. It was his refuge from a household of frenzied females. Not for the first time he lamented not having a son; although his Lizzy was a cut above the rest of her sisters, she wasn't male. As a child, he had been able to overlook the fact that Lizzy was a girl. She was so inquisitive with such an active mind that he had thought little about the consequences of teaching her as if she had been his son. He could no longer pretend that Lizzy wasn't a young lady. He felt that he had done her no favor, teaching her to think so independently and express her own opinions regardless of the company she was in. His wife certainly let Lizzy know her shortcomings as a proper young gentlewoman.

His musings were interrupted by a commotion outside his door. Hearing the clamorous tone of his wife, he braced himself to have his sanctuary invaded. A rapid knock on the door preceded his wife and youngest daughter bursting in the room with little ceremony.

"Oh! Mr Bennet! The most wondrous thing! Lydia and Jane are to go to London to visit my brother!" Mrs Bennet briefly paused to continue but was forestalled by the raised hand of her husband.

"I'm not sure I understand you Mrs Bennet. _Lydia_ is invited to London?" Mr Bennet peered at his youngest child who was bouncing on her toes with excitement.

"Why yes, of course." Avoiding her husband's intense stare, Mrs Bennet nervously adjusted her shawl over her thin shoulders.

"Hmmm, where is the letter from my brother Gardiner with this invitation?"

"Oh well, it was from my sister Gardiner, actually." Mr Bennet was amused by the nervous twitching of his wife. Something was definitely not right about this invitation, if there was indeed an invitation at all. Knowing that Mrs Gardiner usually corresponded with Lizzy, it was unlikely that an invitation to London included Lydia.

"Lydia, please fetch this letter." Lydia looked at her mother with wide eyes. "That's not necessary Mr Bennet, I assure you. My sister was so kind to extend the invitation for Jane to enjoy the season and Lydia to keep her sister company. Isn't that wonderful for our dear girls!" Mrs Bennet waved her handkerchief excitedly. "And think of all the handsome beaux our Jane will encounter!"

"Enough Mrs Bennet, I beg you!" Mr Bennet was not amused. Something was not right and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. "Mrs Bennet, please fetch Lizzy." Mr Bennet's tone brooked no argument.

"Oh, very well!" Mrs Bennet turned to leave with a huff. "Come along Lyddie!" Grasping her youngest by the arm she hastened to the door.

"But I want to go to London!" Lydia's screech could be heard throughout the house.

Shaking his head, Mr Bennet wearily sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He was sure that this invitation had nothing to do with Lydia. More than likely it involved Jane and his Lizzy. He couldn't fathom why his wife would concoct such a deception.

Elizabeth approached her father's study with optimism. She knew that he would not allow Lydia to go to London. _And during the season!_ Elizabeth could think of few things that were worse than subjecting the _ton_ to her errant sister. Regardless of the fact that Lydia was too young to attend balls, she knew that would not stop her sister from making a complete ninny of herself.

Entering her father's study was like reading a well beloved book, familiar, comfortable, and _known_. Quickly taking a seat in front of her father's desk she said, "You asked to see me Papa?"

"Yes Lizzy. Your mother was just here announcing an invitation for Jane and Lydia to visit your Aunt. Did you receive a letter from your Aunt Gardiner Lizzy?"

"Yes Papa."

"Very good. And did the letter include an invitation for Jane and Lydia to come to London?"

"Not exactly. The invitation was for Jane and I to visit for the season."

"Hmmm, curious. Why would your mother insist the invitation was for Lydia and not you?" Mr Bennet leaned forward in his chair, inviting Elizabeth into his confidence.

Elizabeth knew she had to tell her father about the morning's events and face the consequences. Her father's strict admonishment that his wife never approach him with any slight misdeed, real or imagined perpetuated by Elizabeth was the only reason he didn't already know. Her father trusted that she would tell him if she had done anything truly worthy of reprimand. This was one of those moments when she deserved a reprimand.

Elizabeth quietly told her father the events of the morning and her impertinent and rude remark to her mother and the events of the afternoon with Lydia reading her letter. After her account, she worried her lip waiting for her father's reprimand. Elizabeth could tolerate her mother's criticisms with equanimity but she could not bear her father's censure.

Mr Bennet searched his daughter's eyes during her confession. He saw regret, remorse, and guilt. With a labored sigh, he looked at his beloved daughter and gently said, "I can tell you feel true remorse for your unguarded remark to your mother Lizzy," At Lizzy's nod he continued, "I am sorry that you had to endure her unwarranted lecture regarding you being out of doors. She should know by now that you will not be stopped. In that regard you are as stubborn as she is." Elizabeth smiled. "But, I cannot tolerate you speaking so to your mother Lizzy. Despite her words to you that was no excuse for your rudeness."

"I know Papa. I tried to apologize, but she wouldn't listen."

"Stubborn women" Mr Bennet murmured under his breath. "Try again Lizzy and in the meantime, please keep your impertinent remarks to yourself. I may appreciate them but you should know by now your mother does not."

"Yes Papa." Elizabeth hesitated before asking, "What of London Papa? My Aunt's invitation?"

"Hmmm, yes," rubbing his chin Mr Bennet peered at his daughter through lowered brows. "What do you think Lizzy? Do you believe you deserve to go to London?" Before Elizabeth could respond, Jane burst in the door, out of breath.

"If Lizzy doesn't go to London, then I won't as well!" Elizabeth looked at her sister in astonishment. This was so unlike quiet, demure Jane. Their mother would be appalled. Jane flushed at the amused looks of her father and sister. "Well, I won't," Jane repeated with fervor.

Clearing his throat, Mr Bennet invited Jane to sit down. "It seems we have some planning to do. When does your Aunt want you in London?"

Elizabeth grinned, blessed to have such a wonderful support in her dear Jane. She had read the remainder of the letter on her stroll with Jane out in the gardens and knew her Aunt wanted them by Easter.

"Our Aunt would like us by Easter Papa." Elizabeth knew that didn't give them much time. Easter was a little over a fortnight away.

"Well, I think we will need at least a month for you to be fully ready, don't you?" With a level stare at Elizabeth he waited for her to contradict him. Elizabeth knew this was her father's way of meting out punishment without openly upbraiding Elizabeth in front of her sister. With this sure knowledge Elizabeth quietly responded. "Yes Papa, I agree. A month will be better."

Mr Bennet smiled, satisfied. "Well then, I will arrange your transportation with your Uncle. You'll write to your Aunt informing her of your arrival?"

"Oh course Papa, I'll do that right away." Standing up, Elizabeth quickly kissed her father. "Thank you Papa" Elizabeth quietly whispered.

"Well, well. Off with you now." Shooing his daughters toward the door, he settled back in his chair with his book.

Out in the hallway, Elizabeth and Jane stood silently for a moment taking in the conversation with their father. Looking at each other they grasped hands and whispered excitedly, "We're going to London!"

**A/N: If you can't tell I despise Mrs Bennet and Lydia is not far behind. I know Mrs Bennet is a little OOC, hope you don't mind :) I have always felt Mary was given the short end of the stick. As a middle daughter myself, I feel sympathy for Mary, so I made her slightly OOC as well.**

**Please leave a review and let me know what you think, good OR bad! Anyone want to guess who Mrs Gardiner's friend, Lady E is?**


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: First of all I want to thank each and every one of you who have reviewed, favorited, followed, and read this story. Your support is overwhelming. I re-read your comments whenever I need a pick me up and with twin 3 year olds, that is quite often. Best. Mood. Lifter. Ever. So thank you thank you thank you!

So, some of you don't like my depictions of the Bennet family and that's ok. I realize that not everyone is going to agree or like the literary license I've taken with some of JA most beloved characters. I just want to give you a run down on my reasoning for writing the characters the way that I did.

**Mrs. Bennet:** Oh how I dislike that woman! She annoyed me in the book and annoyed me even further in the 1995 BBC adaptation. I actually started writing Mrs Bennet more canon, but it just didn't work. My depiction of her character is more dark, but there is a very good reason for that. I love reading P&amp;P adaptations that explain _why_ Mrs Bennet is the way that she is. I _will_ explain why Mrs Bennet acts the way she does, particularly towards Lizzy. Be patient. For those that don't like her, she won't show up for awhile. So enjoy the reprieve! (I'm sure Lizzy will as well!)

**Mr Bennet: **I have a love/hate relationship with Lizzy's father. Essentially Mr Bennet will be the same as in canon; disinterested in his family, unwilling to discipline or exert control over his wife and children, lazy. However, I have added an element to Mr Bennet's character that is necessary for my story. Even though he realizes his failings as a father, he truly cares about Lizzy and more importantly, for her, he _tries_ to be a good father. Hence my reasoning for him reprimanding her. That is what a good father would do, regardless of whether the person deserved it or not, (Mrs Bennet definitely deserved it!)

**Jane:** I love Jane. What's not to like? She's the ideal woman: demure, reserved, beautiful, angelic and...boring. (You know it's true!) So my Jane is all those things with a dash of sass. Because honestly, how can you have a sister like Lizzy and not have her rub off on you?

**Elizabeth: **My Elizabeth is much the same as in canon, except she is more emotionally fragile and vulnerable (with a mother like Mrs Bennet can you blame her?) Having a mother like Mrs Bennet has made her stronger and more resilient to whatever hardship will be thrown her way, and she'll need it! (Hint, Hint)

**Mary:** I've always felt bad for Mary and being a middle daughter myself (of 5 sisters, 2 brothers as the bookends), I empathize with Mary. It's not easy being the odd one out and feeling like you are invisible. So my Mary is not in the background. She is a staunch supporter and friend to Elizabeth. She is bookish but not a moralizer, spiritual, not just religious (Yes, there is a difference).

**Kitty and Lydia:** Not a huge difference from canon, except maybe Lydia picks up on Mrs Bennet's animosity towards Elizabeth and treats her accordingly.

**Please** keep your reviews coming, they make my day! I want to hear what you think, good or bad.

April 1812

Chapter 3

The next month passed excruciatingly slowly for Elizabeth. She learned just how stubborn her mother could be. She remained resolute in her decision to give Elizabeth the silent treatment. At first, Elizabeth didn't mind. It was pleasant to not have to hear her mother's lectures each time she entered her presence. But the silence wore on her as time passed. Her mother's thwarted attempt to have Lydia go to London in Elizabeth's place only increased her ire and determination to ignore her second eldest child. Even Elizabeth's multiple attempts at reconciliation had been rebuffed.

Finally, after the agonizingly slow month, she and Jane were on their way to London. As the carriage pulled away from Longbourn, Elizabeth looked back at her home. Her father and sister, Mary were still standing outside. Upon observing Elizabeth, they waved their hands in final farewell. Elizabeth smiled brightly and returned their farewell, not surprised her mother had already returned to the house. She came out to say goodbye to Jane, telling her how to make herself agreeable to the young men and to come home with a wealthy beau. She had ignored Elizabeth.

Elizabeth sat back and made herself comfortable for the twenty mile journey to London. She was happy to visit her Aunt with Jane, but there was nothing quite like home. Truth be told, Elizabeth was nervous. She had never had a season of her own. Her father's limited resources didn't allow him to support his daughters through an entire season. It was beneficial to all involved that her Aunt and Uncle lived in London and were willing to sponsor them.

Elizabeth smiled to herself as she thought of the woman who in many ways was more a mother to her than her own. Mrs Gardiner had been born Miss Marianne Vane, the only child of an impoverished Baronet, Sir Francis Vane. Growing up in a crumbling estate in Derbyshire, her life had been filled with excess despite the reduced circumstances of her family. As an only child she had been indulged and doted upon by her father; her mother having died giving birth to her. Despite being so spoiled, it did not affect her happy disposition and good humor. As she grew older, she realized that the life she lived was a facade; the family money having been lost in poor investments and gambling over the years.

Determined to help her father regain his pride and recoup their losses, she suggested investing in new businesses that were flourishing. Never one to deny his child anything, Sir Francis had agreed. This single decision led to a life-changing event for Miss Marianne Vane. When she was twenty years old, she met a young, sagacious business man by the name of Edward Gardiner. He was owner of a growing business in London that was anticipated to become even more prosperous. With Edward Gardiner's business expertise and Sir Francis' connections, within two years the business had expanded and prospered to the extent that made all involved very wealthy.

Among those to benefit from Mr Gardiner's business acumen was Lord Henry Fitzwilliam, the young Earl of Matlock. Upon his father's untimely death, Lord Henry had discovered that his father had been heavily in debt; mortgaging the London Townhome and Family Estate to pay for their elaborate lifestyle. Determined to pay back the creditors and free his family from debt, he quickly realized the best way to recoup their losses were through wise investments. Hearing of Mr Gardiner's business investment opportunity through his future father-in-law, Lord Guy Worthington, The Marquess of Lansdowne; together they decided to use the dowry of Lord Henry's fiancée, Lady Eleanor Worthington to invest in the up and coming business.

Through the business connection and close association of their fathers, Lady Eleanor Worthington and Miss Marianne Vane became close friends and confidants. When Lady Eleanor married the Earl of Matlock, Marianne was asked to stand up with her.

As Mr Gardiner's business prospered, he began to turn to more personal matters. He decided it was time to marry and start a family of his own. For years he had associated with and come to deeply admire Miss Marianne Vane. Despite his close association with her father, he knew she was out of his reach socially...and romantically. She was expected to marry within her social sphere, someone of the gentry, not a tradesman; however successful and wealthy he may be.

With the passing years, Edward Gardiner's admiration for Miss Vane turned to love. Joyous was the day when he discovered that she returned his affections. When the couple approached Sir Francis with their decision to marry, they were not surprised when Sir Francis refused to give them their blessing. Having reached her majority several years previously, Marianne determined that she would marry Edward, with or without her father's blessing. So they quietly married and began their life together.

The repercussions of Miss Vane's marriage to a mere tradesman was swift and complete. Life long friends and acquaintances refused to acknowledge her and invitations to social events ceased. Indeed, anytime she ventured outside her home became a very unpleasant experience. This didn't bother Marianne Gardiner greatly as she was blissfully happy in her marriage. The only regret she had was the rift her marriage had caused with her father.

The one friend that didn't abandon Marianne Gardiner was Lady Eleanor Fitzwilliam, Countess of Matlock. She was unfailingly loyal and unwavering in the defense of her friend. She persuaded her husband to accept Mr and Mrs Gardiner into their home , reasoning that if not for Mr Gardiner, they would not be free from debt and enjoying their current level of wealth. With the support of Lord and Lady Matlock, others soon followed and slowly over time the Gardiner's began to be accepted back into society.

"What are you thinking about so deeply Lizzy?" Jane's gentle voice brought Elizabeth back to the present.

"Hmmm? Just our Aunt and Uncle. Their story is so romantic, don't you think?"

Jane smiled. "Yes, it definitely is. Although I can't imagine the hurt our Aunt must have felt, especially in the early days of her marriage."

"Whatever do you mean Jane?" cried Elizabeth. "She was married to the man she loved."

Jane sighed, "I meant the pain she must have felt being cut off from all she had known and loved. To be so rejected by her friends and her father." Jane shook her head sadly. "I can't imagine how lonely that must have been for her."

"I suppose you are right. But if I had to choose between the man I loved and my friends, there would be no question I would choose the man I loved."

"But would you choose between the man you loved over your family?" Elizabeth contemplated Jane's question. Could she give up the relationship with her father? Sisters? For love? Elizabeth knew that if she was ever to marry it would be to a man she not only respected and admired, but one she loved deeply.

Elizabeth hesitantly responded, "I would like to think that I wouldn't have to choose. I believe that any man I deemed worthy of my hand would be accepted by those dearest to me."

Jane nodded. "That is true. I can't imagine Papa denying you anything." Elizabeth laughed and teasingly said, "Unless I came home with a Baker's son!" Jane's mirthful countenance turned serious as she said, "Lizzy, are you nervous at all? For the Season I mean?"

Elizabeth looked at her sister and saw anxiety and...fear? "Jane, what are you so worried about?"

"I am afraid of _them!_" Jane said distressingly. Elizabeth was confused. What could Jane mean? This was so unlike her normally composed sister. Something must truly be bothering her. "Who's them?'

Jane fiddled with the string of her bonnet nervously. "You'll think I am being juvenile, Lizzy."

"Oh course I won't Jane. Please, tell me." With a deep sigh, Jane looked in her sister's concerned eyes. Then in a rush, she said, "I'm afraid that I'll attract the wrong kind of man, that I won't be able to discern if he is good or not, that I'll be taken advantage of, or that the men won't find me attractive at all. Or worse, I'll fall in love with a scoundrel or someone Papa won't approve of..."

"Jane, Jane. Stop!" Elizabeth laughed. "Don't laugh Lizzy, this isn't funny! I'm being perfectly serious."

"I know you are dearest. I'm not laughing at you! I'm laughing because I share your fears."

"Truly?"

Elizabeth nodded moving to sit beside her sister in the carriage. Taking her hand she said, "We have never been to London during the Season, Jane. Of course I share your concerns. We are about to move in unfamiliar circles. We are used to the small society of Hertfordshire, it is natural to feel uneasy and nervous at the prospect of encountering so many new people. This is completely new for both of us. But, we won't be alone. We have each other and our Aunt will look out for us. She is familiar with those we will meet and those we should avoid. And as for falling for someone not worthy of our affections... Well, I'd like to think we are both good judges of character. Besides, it is unlikely that we will form any attachments! After all, we will only be in London for little more than two months! What could possibly happen in two months?"

FEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Fitzwilliam Darcy was not amused. In fact, he was downright annoyed. He currently stood at the edge of a ballroom surrounded by a bunch of simpering misses and their interfering mamas. Darcy looked heavenward in supplication, but not receiving any divine intervention he took a deep breath and entered the fray...er, ballroom.

With a false smile on his face, he turned to the man standing at his left with whom he had been conversing. _What was his name? _ "Quite the turnout, isn't it?" the unnamed man observed. Darcy barely refrained from grimacing from his inane comment. _This was torture!_ He was going to kill Richard. Slowly. Where was his idiotic cousin anyway?

"Quite." Darcy's clipped and sardonic reply was lost on his companion. "Don't see how anyone can move when there is such a crush." Darcy was about to make his excuses and leave when they were accosted by a large woman being trailed by a slip of a girl. Groaning slightly, Darcy braced himself for the inevitable. _Curse you, Richard._

"Oh, Mr Wimpole!" simpered the large woman. "How good to see you!" The woman fluttered her eyes at Darcy's companion. To Darcy's amusement, Mr Wimpole turned a bright shade of magenta.

Bowing to the large woman, he stammered, "Er...Good evening, Mrs Hartley." Suddenly remembering that he wasn't alone, he turned to Darcy and gesturing to him said, "Let me introduce Mr Darcy. Mr Darcy, this is Mrs Hartley and her daughter, Miss Hartley."

Bowing, Darcy politely said, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs Hartley, Miss Hartley."

"Charmed, I'm sure." Mrs Hartley perused Darcy with a calculating look. "My, you are tall," she cooed. Darcy stiffened his back and carefully arranged his face in a blank mask. "Yes, I am," he stated. She tittered. Turning to her daughter hiding behind her, she unceremoniously yanked her forward and presented her to Darcy like a sacrificial lamb. It was obvious to Darcy the girl was terrified. Likely in her first season. Taking pity on the poor girl he asked her, "How are you enjoying the ball, Miss Hartley?" Glancing nervously at her mother, she timidly responded, "Very well, thank you, Mr Darcy."

"My Evelyn dearly loves to dance, don't you dear?" Mrs Hartley looked expectantly at Darcy. _Here we go._With a deep breath, Darcy turned to Miss Hartley. "Then I would be honored if you would allow me to share in something you enjoy so much." Ignoring Mrs Hartley's triumphant smile he offered Miss Hartley his arm and led her to the dance floor.

Sometime later, Darcy found himself on the edge of the ballroom once again. This time he made sure to partially conceal himself behind a well placed potted plant. Scanning the ballroom for any of his close acquaintances, he spied his Aunt Matlock a little ways down from him conversing with a handsome and stately woman around the age of his Aunt. Catching his Aunt's eye she leaned over and spoke to her companion and together they made their way toward Darcy. He quickly ascertained that there were no young misses accompanying them. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hiding? Darcy really. Sometimes you still remind me of a little boy."

Kissing his Aunt on the cheek, he countered, "Good evening Aunt. I was _not _hiding."

"You were." Darcy huffed. "I was merely searching for Richard."

"In the corner. Behind a plant?" His Aunt laughed. Ignoring the scowl on her nephew's face she turned to her companion. "You remember my nephew Mr Darcy, don't you Marianne?"

"Oh course! We met several years ago at your Twelfth Night Ball. It is good to see you again, Mr Darcy."

Darcy smiled and bowed. "Pleased to see you again madam." His Aunt Matlock turned amused eyes towards her nephew. "_Mrs Gardiner_ is one of my dearest friends, nephew." Darcy realized his Aunt knew he didn't remember her friend or her name. Maybe Richard was right, he needed to get out more.

Turning to Mrs Gardiner he said sheepishly, "Forgive me, Mrs Gardiner. I had forgotten our previous acquaintance; although I have heard you spoken of many times by my Aunt. I know my Uncle and Aunt hold you and your husband in very high regard."

With a pleased smile his Aunt responded, "I'm only teasing you Darcy. Marianne is very aware of your ah...aversion to society. Indeed, we speak of it often."

With a raised brow Darcy said, "I am pleased I can be a source of amusement to you Aunt."

Slapping his hand playfully, she said, "Oh, don't be like that Darcy. Marianne knows that I see you as one of my own and care as much for your welfare as I do my own boys."

"Indeed, Mr Darcy. Your Aunt misses you when you are away from town. Although I can't blame you for retreating to the wilds of Derbyshire. It is the best of counties in my opinion."

"You are familiar with Derbyshire, Mrs Gardiner?" Darcy was pleased to hear someone speak so warmly of his home. Mrs Gardiner laughed. "I grew up in Derbyshire, Mr Darcy."

"Indeed? May I ask where?"

"Vane Manor." Mrs Gardiner promptly replied. Mr Darcy was puzzled. He was familiar with the family of that estate, being but seven miles from Pemberly but he couldn't recall anyone by the name of Marianne residing within. Although he realized it would have been when he was a very small child.

Seeing Darcy's puzzled expression, Mrs Gardiner briefly told Darcy her history. Darcy didn't know what to say. He was amazed that Mrs Gardiner could speak of her disinheritance with such composure.

Finally, he said, "I am sorry that you had to make such a sacrifice, Mrs Gardiner. I admire your courage to make such a decision. It couldn't have been easy."

"Thank you Mr Darcy." Nodding her head in acknowledgement. "It was not easy. But it was worth it."

"Well, enough of that!" His Aunt's bright tone dispelled the seriousness of their conversation. "Let's talk of more pleasant things, shall we?"

Turning to Darcy, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she said, "Marianne was just telling me that she is expecting two of her nieces to join her in London for part of the season. Isn't that wonderful?"

Darcy knew where his Aunt was going with this line of conversation. For years, she had tried to match him with various daughters or nieces of her friends and acquaintances. She had limited opportunities to do so as he only attended her Twelfth Night Ball, but that didn't stop her from writing about each of them. In detail.

Darcy rubbed his eyes. He would need to tread carefully. He didn't want to offend his Aunt's dearest friend by showing a lack of interest in becoming acquainted with her nieces. He couldn't remember if his Aunt had mentioned these misses before. _Probably._They were all the same. Heaven save him from highly accomplished women!

"Darcy, are you listening? Marianne's nieces are coming to visit!" Exasperated with the lack of attention by her nephew she turned to her friend and excitedly said, "I am so glad they are able to come. I did so enjoy their company last fall. I may just have to steal them from you and convince them to stay with me for part of the time they are here. Oh, we have so much to plan! When will they arrive?"

"They'll arrive the day after tomorrow." His Aunt squealed. Squealed! Darcy was astounded. His Aunt was a grown woman of two and fifty, an illustrious member of the peerage and here she was acting like a young, green miss!

Darcy was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. The longer he remained increased the likelihood that he would have to express interest in meeting Mrs Gardiner's nieces, and Darcy detested saying things he didn't mean. As pleasant as Mrs Gardiner appeared to be it didn't imply that the nieces would be. More likely they would be just like the rest; greedy, obsequious, and dull. Darcy desperately needed a distraction. He anxiously scanned his surroundings, looking for an escape. Spying Richard, Darcy quickly excused himself and fled.

"Ah! There you are old boy! Having fun?" Richard looked at Darcy with a distinct mischievous gleam in his eye. Darcy frowned at his cousin. "What do you think?"

Richard sighed. "Darcy, it's not that bad. Some of the girls are quite pleasant really." Darcy looked at his cousin like he was mad.

"That's because they don't peruse you like a cow at market!" This caused Richard to guffaw, loudly.

Slapping his irritated cousin on the back, he said sympathetically, "Well, at least it's almost over."

"This is 2 Richard." At his cousin's confused stare, he clarified. "This is the second of three balls I agreed to attend this season."

Thoughtfully, Richard rubbed his chin. "Can I convince you to add another social event to your calendar?" Richard looked at Darcy hopefully.

"No." Darcy's tone was emphatic.

"Killjoy."

"Meddler."

With a grin, Richard said, "And proud of it." Sensing Darcy's black mood he changed the subject. "What were you talking to my mother and Mrs Gardiner about?" If possible, Darcy's mood became more forbidding. "Her nieces."

Richard raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question. "They're coming to visit," he added.

"Ah. Let me guess, my dear mother is anxious to introduce them to you."

Darcy shifted uncomfortably. "No doubt; although I left before she could express that desire."

Richard laughed. "Take heart Darcy. Maybe one of them will be your lady love."

"I doubt it," Darcy murmured under his breath.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Elizabeth and Jane arrived at their Aunt and Uncle Gardiner's with great relief and excitement and were received with equal amounts delight and anticipation. The Gardiner's had relocated to a more fashionable part of town from their previous home near Cheapside several years back. As the Gardiner's had not been blessed with children, Mrs Gardiner spent a lot of her time involved in various charities and Mr Gardiner spent much of his time overseeing his business ventures; although he had competent managers to oversee the day to day details of his business. The Gardiner's doted on their nieces, especially the two eldest; having developed a great rapport from the many visits they had made. For the past several years, Jane and Elizabeth had visited London every Autumn; traveling back to Longbourn with the Gardiner's before Christmas so they could enjoy the season with the family.

After being welcomed briefly by their Aunt, Jane and Elizabeth were shown to their rooms to refresh themselves from the journey. Heading downstairs, they met their Aunt in the small dining room for a light lunch.

"Oh girls! It is so wonderful to have you here again. I am so looking forward to these next few months. We are going to have a delightful time!" Mrs Gardiner rushed to embrace her nieces, suddenly overcome with giddiness.

Elizabeth laughed as she embraced her Aunt, relishing the close contact. She couldn't remember the last time she had been held by her mother, probably never. "We are very pleased to be here Aunt. We are looking forward to experiencing the delights of the season. Are we not, Jane?" Elizabeth turned to her elder sister with a sly look.

Jane cleared her throat, shooting a slight look of displeasure towards her sister "Of course we are."

Mrs Gardiner looked back and forth between her two nieces, sensing the slight tension. "Is something bothering you Jane?" Recognizing that Elizabeth would be more forthcoming she turned and said, "Lizzy?"

Elizabeth glanced briefly at her sister, silently asking permission to confide in their Aunt. After a brief nod from Jane, Elizabeth turned to her Aunt. "Jane and I _are_ excited to see you and Uncle, but, well...we are both very nervous as well," admitted Elizabeth.

Looking confused, Mrs Gardiner responded, "What ever are you nervous about?"

Elizabeth responded with a tense laugh. "The season. We are unsure what to expect as we have never experienced one before let alone been in London during the season. Jane and I feel like ignorant country bumpkins, Aunt."

Mrs Gardiner laughed merrily. "Well, you may _feel_ like country bumpkins, but you certainly won't _look_ it!"

"What ever do you mean, Aunt?" Jane turned her beautiful blue eyes to her Aunt in confusion.

With a mischievous smile and a wink, she simply said, "You'll see. It's a surprise your father and I have planned. All will be revealed tomorrow. For now, let us enjoy the rest of our day quietly here at home. Would that suit you girls?"

Jane gladly responded in the affirmative. She became easily fatigued on carriage rides; even the relatively short three hour journey of good road between Longbourn and London left her exhausted and out of sorts. Elizabeth, on the other hand felt the need to stretch her legs after being seated for so long. Excusing herself, she wandered to the garden attached to the Gardiner's elegant Townhome.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Miss Georgiana Darcy was not in the habit of misleading her brother. In truth, she confided in him about everything. Having lost her mother and father at the tender ages of four and ten respectively, she looked to her brother as more of a father figure than a sibling. Her cousin Richard shared guardianship with her brother and fulfilled the role of loveable, older brother admirably.

That morning, when asked what she had planned, she had evaded his question, not wanting to openly deceive her brother. Fortunately, he had been preoccupied, barely listening to her vague response. Lately he had been more distant than usual, more reticent. He always became morose around the New Year but this year his mood had been accompanied by a sense of despair and hopelessness. Usually retreating to Pemberley shortly after the new year, this year he had lingered in London. Normally she relished the time spent in London, what 15 year old young woman did not? But her brother's self-imposed exile had worried her exceedingly.

She had done the only thing she could think of. Not feeling comfortable confronting her brother on her own, she had expressed her concerns to Richard. It was shortly after his visit that her brother had come and apologized profusely for causing her worry. He had asked what he could do to make it up to her. Deciding that something extra special was needed, she had named her price. Her brother had to learn to play a duet on the piano with her and at some time in the future, play it before company. To most people, this would not be a terrible penance. But for her reticent brother, it was torture. Her brother was accomplished at the pianoforte but he never played for anyone but himself and occasionally for her, but only if she begged. But he had not complained and submitted to his punishment with humility.

Stepping down from the carriage on Piccadilly, she made her way purposefully to Hatchard's, her brother's favorite book shop with her companion, Mrs Annesley.

Georgiana was at Hatchard's Book Store to find the ideal gift for her brother's upcoming birthday. Normally she gifted him with handkerchiefs, embroidered with his initials. But this year she wanted to find something even more special, something that would raise his flagging spirits. She thought the perfect book would be just the thing.

She entered the book store with a little trepidation, unused to being there without the steady, reassuring presence of her brother. Mrs Annesley indicated her desire to wait in the chairs provided for the customers. Nodding her head in acknowledgement, Georgiana went further into the shop. Not knowing where to start, she stood uncertainly looking around the vast store. Biting her lip, she tried to recall where her brother usually looked for books, but could not remember. As she was considering her options she heard a familiar voice address her.

"Miss Darcy?"

Georgiana turned to the young woman in obvious pleasure. "Miss Elizabeth! It is good to see you!" The two young women curtsied to one another, exchanging greetings. "I had heard from my Aunt that you and your sister were to come for part of the season. When did you arrive?"

"Only yesterday. Our Aunt surprised us with several new ball gowns and we are out shopping for trimmings, new gloves and other sundries. I needed a break so I asked to come here while Jane and my Aunt visited the haberdashers." With a playful gleam in her eye, Elizabeth leaned forward, "There is only so much lace I can take in one day!"

Georgiana laughed merrily. Miss Elizabeth was a new acquaintance, having met her at Aunt Eleanor's last Autumn when she and her sister were visiting their Aunt Gardiner. Normally reserved and timid in new company, Elizabeth had endeared herself to Georgiana with her open manner and happy disposition. She had instantly warmed up to the young woman. Her sister Jane was also very kind and warm. Georgiana had been so delighted with her new acquaintances she had written her brother, extolling their many virtues.

Elizabeth smiled at her young friend. "What brings you here? "

Georgiana turned excitedly to Elizabeth. "Maybe you can help me! I am choosing a book for my brother's upcoming birthday and I don't know where to start."

"Hmmm...Well, what are his interests?" Elizabeth turned in a circle perusing the various sections of the shop.

Georgiana shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "I don't know. He has very diverse tastes. He is a voracious reader. I am afraid whatever I choose he'll have read it already."

Elizabeth headed to a section of the store. Quickly perusing the shelves, she spied a book and with an impish smirk presented it to Georgiana.

Georgiana took the book from Elizabeth. Upon reading the title, she burst out laughing. Remembering she was in a public place, she quickly moderated her volume. Chuckling, she handed the book back to Elizabeth with a shake of her head and a wide grin. "I don't think my brother would find this very amusing. Besides, his behavior is impeccable. "

Taking the book, Elizabeth gaily replied. "He doesn't have a sense of humor?"

"Oh, he does! I just don't think that is the book for my brother. I want something special. He's been very down lately and I want something that will cheer him up."

"You mean, _The Gentleman's Book of Etiquette: Rules for Perfect Conduct_ is not something special?" Elizabeth replied teasingly. " I don't know Miss Darcy, I think it is just the thing. It will definitely bring a smile to his face."

Shaking her head, she said, "No, I want something that is different, something that will make his eyes light up with interest and appreciation."

Never one to turn down a challenge, Elizabeth said, "You must have a very fastidious brother Miss Darcy. Well, let's see what we can find."

Elizabeth headed in the opposite direction towards the History Section. As she scanned the shelves, she shook her head in frustration. As Georgiana patiently waited, she could hear Elizabeth quietly mumbling, "No, no that won't do."

She turned to Georgiana, dissatisfaction plain on her face. Suddenly Elizabeth's eyes lit up. "Ah! I have just the thing. Now if only they have it..." She quickly walked up to the proprietor and quietly asked a question before following him to a section in the back of the store. He pulled out a book and handed it to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth in turn handed the book to Georgiana with a flourish. "Here is the perfect book for your brother. I can almost guarantee he hasn't read it. It is not terribly well known as it is not yet translated in English. You have to read it in French or the original Chinese.

Georgiana looked at Elizabeth in astonishment and a little alarm. "Chinese?" Georgiana knew her brother didn't speak Chinese.

Elizabeth laughed. "Of course, this is the French version. I am assuming your brother speaks French?"

"Oh, of course." Georgiana took the book, opening the book to read the title. "L' Arte de la Guerre? (The Art of War)" She looked up surprised. "I think this will be just perfect Miss Elizabeth! I don't believe my brother has ever read this," Georgiana continued elatedly. "But with my cousin in the army, it is possible he has heard of it," Georgiana paused her rambling dialogue. "Although...Richard is not a very great reader, so maybe he hasn't."

Elizabeth grinned. "Well, I don't know a man who is not interested in warfare. And even if he isn't, he should still find it of interest. I found it immensely fascinating. My father and I had many heated discussions over this book."

"Well, I can't thank you enough Miss Elizabeth. You have been a tremendous help."

"It was my pleasure Miss Darcy. I hope that he enjoys it. I am sure he will be very impressed."

"I will be sure to give the credit to you."

"Don't you dare!" Elizabeth feigned a horrified expression. "It would not do for an unknown woman to make book recommendations to a man she has never even met!"

With a laugh, Georgiana went to make her purchase. Elizabeth waited while the shopkeeper wrapped the book. Taking the package, Georgiana and Elizabeth headed to the door together. Elizabeth exchanged brief pleasantries with Mrs Annesley, then said her farewells and turned to leave.

"Oh! Wait!" Georgiana said loudly, then blushed. She really needed to learn to moderate her tone in public. More calmly, she continued. " I would love to have you, Miss Bennet and Mrs Gardiner for tea soon. Would the day after tomorrow be alright?" Georgiana looked expectantly at Elizabeth.

With an apologetic smile, Elizabeth responded. "Unfortunately, we are attending Sir Reginald Lynton's Ball that night. I know Jane especially doesn't like to have many engagements on the day of a ball."

"Oh, of course. I should know that. I heard my brother and cousin speak of it just last night."

"How about Saturday? I believe we have no engagements that day."

Georgiana gave a brilliant smile. "That would be perfect. Thank you. I'll send a card with the address later today."

After a brief farewell and Elizabeth's promise that she would share everything about the ball at tea on Saturday, the two young friends parted ways.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Darcy sat at his desk, staring vacantly out the window; his mind equally empty of thought. Leaning forward, he rested his head in his hands. This melancholy had to end. He was a grown man of almost seven and twenty. He needed to get a hold of himself!

Standing abruptly, he started pacing the familiar length of his study. He felt restless and on edge. Being in London always made him that way. Normally at this time of year he would be at Pemberley, overseeing the spring planting. At the thought of his home, a sudden longing to be there welled up in his breast, leaving an ache in his heart. He wanted to be back at Pemberley, riding over the land, free and unburdened, not attending social events! He took his duties as Master of Pemberley very seriously, the lessons of honor and responsibility instilled in him early on by his father. _Your father was not the only parent who taught you valuable lessons._ Darcy paused in his pacing, forcing his thoughts down another path, any path but that one.

But his thoughts seemed to have a will of their own, as they tumbled down unfamiliar paths previously excluded from his mind, and his heart. _Mother._ Her very name caused overwhelming grief and pain to nearly consume him. Even eleven years later, the very thought of her caused overwhelming heartache. After her death, he had shut off all thought and memory of her. It was too painful, too raw. The days following her death, he had watched his father sink slowly into despair. Someone needed to stay strong and take control of the family. At four years of age, Georgiana didn't fully understand that her mother was gone, never to return. _She is the lucky one,_ Darcy thought bitterly. No doubt the passing years had erased any vague memories she might have had.

During the six subsequent years, Darcy had watched his father sink further and further in despair until he too had simply stopped breathing. The loneliness he felt at the death of his parents had been directed to one single person. _Her._ She was the last link to his mother. If not for the hope of finding her one day, he felt that he too would have succumbed to despair. If he could find her, then everything would be alright. She would heal and close the gapping wounds that had festered since that fateful day in August.

Darcy went over to his wall safe and for the first time in over a year removed her picture. He had framed the drawing many years ago as he had been fearful that his constant handling would damage it beyond repair. Gazing at the face he knew so well, he lightly traced her face. _Where are you?_ He attended his Aunt's Twelfth Night Ball each January full of hope and confidence that she would be there. But each passing year without meeting her left him more and more despondent. He didn't know if he could take it anymore. He often wondered what his life would be like it his mother had never told him about her dream or showed him the drawing of his perfect match, his soul mate. Would he already be married? Have children? Likely, he'd be married to one of the women of the _ton_ he so despised. Most certainly he'd be miserable shackled to a woman he could not love, let alone admire or respect.

Despite his melancholic state of mind, he felt nothing but gratitude that he would not suffer the fate of so many of his station, a marriage of convenience. He had _her_. Following Richard's advice had been difficult. But he was right. He needed to take action and initiative in finding her. Realistically, he knew it was not possible to find her after only two balls. What were the chances? But even with the odds stacked against him, he had hoped. One more. Only one more ball and then he was done. He would retreat back to the refuge of Pemberley until next January and hope that she would be there.

Darcy's somber thoughts were interrupted by the sudden appearance of his sister, Georgiana. An involuntary smile appeared on his face. Georgiana had been his salvation, his reason to keep living after the death of their parents. She was a deterrent to his ever-increasing hopelessness; a ray of sunshine to pierce his gloomy thoughts.

Hastily covering the drawing, he came to his feet and approached his sister. "Georgiana, dearest. What have you been up to this morning?" Placing a light kiss on her forehead, he looked at her with evident affection.

Georgiana smiled brightly at her brother. She would have to be sneaky. She didn't want him to suspect her mission that morning. She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, "Nothing much." Deciding it was best if she evaded his question with one of her own, she quickly asked, "Would it be alright if I invited guests for tea on Saturday?"

Darcy raised his brows. This was unusual. It was unlike his usually reserved sister to invite company, other than family to tea. She was too much like him, he thought wryly. "Whom would you like to invite, dearest?"

Without thinking, she blurted, "Well, I've already invited them." _Oh no, how am I going to explain this?_ Georgiana waited, holding her breath.

Darcy looked closely at his sister, then narrowed his eyes. She was hiding something. "Oh? And when did you invite them?" _This should be interesting._ He smiled encouragingly at his sister.

"Well, uh...you see..." Georgiana began shifting nervously from foot to foot.

Taking pity on his sister, he said reassuringly, "Yes, you may invite company to tea on Saturday. I will likely be out with Richard, so you will have to host them alone. Can you do that?"

"Oh yes! It will be no trouble, I assure you. Thank you brother!" Giving her brother a quick hug, she literally skipped from the room.

"Georgiana, wait." Darcy stopped his sister. "You didn't tell me who you invited."

Stopping at the door, she turned in surprise. "I didn't? Oh, I invited the Miss Bennet's and their Aunt, Mrs Gardiner." With that revelation, she left the room with a dazzling smile. She had an invitation to send.

Darcy slumped in his seat and groaned. _Those confounded nieces!_ Yes, he definitely would be absent on Saturday. Maybe Richard would want to go fencing.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFE

The day of the ball began bleak and wet. Elizabeth gazed out at the rain drenched garden and signed heavily. She needed a distraction or she would go mad. She was disappointed with herself for feeling so anxious over a ball! She had attended them before. _But not like this one_. She silently chided herself. These thoughts would do nothing to relieve her mind. If only she could walk out of doors. She always thought better when her legs were moving and she was breathing fresh air. _Although the air in London__is not so fresh, _she thought wryly.

With a final, longing look outside, she turned from the window, her gaze resting on her sister. Jane was the picture of maidenly sensibility and decorum. Currently she was engaged in some sewing, her expression serene; indicating that she had nothing more troublesome to worry over than which color thread to choose from. But she knew her sister. Her calm demeanor belied her inner anxiety.

Sitting on the sofa, she turned to her sister and waited. She didn't have to wait long.

With an almost inaudible sigh, Jane placed her sewing on her lap, and with a slight smile, said, "I am well Lizzy. Do not fret."

"Jane, I know what you are feeling. It would help if we could express our concerns."

With a raised brow, Jane put aside her sewing and turned to face her sister, giving her full attention. "Very well, you go first."

"You go first, you're older."

"It's because I'm older that you should go first. It is my duty to give my dear younger sister advice."

Elizabeth laughed. She looked at her sister, not knowing where to start. She stood and began pacing trying to organize her jumbled thoughts. After a moment of steady pacing Elizabeth stopped and looking at the ground, said haltingly, "Do you ever feel the weight of our family's expectations for us?"

Jane looked at her sister with astonishment. "What do you mean Lizzy? What expectations?"

Elizabeth looked at her sister incredulously. "What expectations? Jane! How can you not know of what I am speaking? Our mother reminds it of us daily."

"You mean to marry well?" Jane shrugged her shoulders. "I am not worried Lizzy. Father is in good health and I have no doubt that we will make good matches."

Elizabeth gazed at her sister. She didn't understand. How could she? Daily she had heard their mother extol her beauty and accomplishments, firm in her belief that Jane, her perfect Jane would save the family from certain destitution. Elizabeth had no such assurances. She had heard nothing but how she would be lucky to marry at all, let alone marry well.

Elizabeth knew her limitations. She was too outspoken, too opinionated. She was the opposite of Jane's golden beauty. Elizabeth's most defining physical attribute was brown. Brown hair, brown eyes, brown complexion, which to her mother equaled mediocrity. As a child, Elizabeth let her mother's daily insults wash over her. She was confident of her father's love and approbation. She didn't need her mother's affection. But as she became older, and she approached the age that marriage was expected and desired, she had started to listen to her mother's insults. And they stung. Because she came to realize that what her mother said was true. She was not beautiful or particularly accomplished. She had nothing to offer a man except for her 'pert opinions and fine eyes.' She tried to hide her pain through witty remarks and an indifferent attitude, but the strain of pretending had begun to wear on her.

She felt that if she could marry well, she would redeem herself in her mother's eyes. She could do that at least. But she doubted herself. But her lack of eligibility to a gentleman was not all that occupied her thoughts on the day of her first real ball. Elizabeth felt restless. Although that didn't adequately describe what she was feeling. She felt she was on the edge of a great change. Of what, she didn't know. And that left her feeling confused and aimless.

Elizabeth looked at her sister with obvious affection. What would she do without her dear Jane? Despite her mother's disapprobation, she had Jane's constant affection and support. She wanted to make Jane understand, but she needed to handle it delicately.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and attempted to convey her inner turmoil. "Jane, I know you will make a brilliant match. How could you not? You are everything a man would wish for in a wife. You are kind, loyal, generous, accomplished. Not to mention beautiful, graceful..."

"Lizzy, stop! Please. I know what I am and I know what I am _not_. This is why I am so anxious. I want a man I can respect as well as love. I am afraid that all a man will see is my beauty, not caring who I truly am. I am afraid of being taken in by a handsome face, blind to the blackness in his heart. I am..."

Elizabeth grasped Jane's hands. "Enough Jane. _That_ will not happen. I won't let it. Nor will our Aunt and Uncle."

Jane gazed unwaveringly at her sister, and said gently, "What are you truly feeling Lizzy?"

"I hardly know Jane. My mind is full of doubt and confusion. I try to drown out Mama's negative comments, but I find it difficult."

"Oh Lizzy. I feel that I have failed you in so many ways." Jane's eyes filled with tears.

"No Jane. _You_ have done nothing wrong. _You_ are not responsible for the vindictiveness of our mother."

"But I should have defended you better, made her stop saying those horrible things to you."

"It would not have made any difference. Her malice is fixed against me." Elizabeth stood up to begin pacing again, needing movement to still her troubled thoughts.

"But why Lizzy? I have never understood her behavior towards you. Have you ever asked Papa?"

"Yes. Once." Elizabeth's thoughts wandered to that unpleasant memory. She had been twelve. Her mother had been particularly spiteful that day. Elizabeth's lively, high-spirited attitude had always irked her mother and that day had been no exception. Everything Elizabeth did that day was wrong. It had come to a head during supper and the haranguing began; Elizabeth ate too slowly, she ate too fast, she didn't eat enough, she ate too much. In exasperation, she had impertinently responded, "Well maybe I won't eat at all. Then you will have nothing to complain about." Her mother had simply shouted at her to leave the table.

Later that night she had gone to her father. Never before had she approached him with this particular question. She had simply asked him why. Why did her mother treat her with so much disdain? Up until that moment, her father had always answered her questions. In fact, he relished her questions, which often led to debates as their opinions often differed. But that particular question caused such a change in her father's countenance, his usually open and easy manner abruptly became closed and forbidding. He had firmly told her to _never_ ask again. Not wanting to risk her father's ire, she had obediently acquiesced. She never asked him again.

"What did he say?"

"He refused to answer." Elizabeth turned toward the fireplace, not wanting her sister to see the pain apparent on her face.

Jane sat silent, lost in her own thoughts. She was selfish. She was worrying about falling for the wrong man when her beloved sister had real concerns, real pain. She quickly stood and went to her sister, embracing her with a fierceness which belied her delicate frame. "I don't care what Mama says Lizzy and you should not heed her vicious words. They are not true," she ended emphatically.

Elizabeth returned her sister's embrace with equal fervor. "I can't help but believe them Jane. They are ingrained in my brain. I hear them even in my sleep! " Elizabeth laughed, subtly wiping away her tears.

"Don't do that Lizzy. Don't hide your tears from me."

Elizabeth laughed again. "It's a habit, I suppose. My only defense: _never_ show weakness in front of Mama. No sense in giving her further cause to complain!"

"What else is on your mind Lizzy?" Jane instinctively knew her sister needed to talk of something else. Elizabeth was silent for so long, Jane almost repeated her question.

"I hardly know Jane. It is difficult to put in words when I don't fully understand it myself." Elizabeth returned to the sofa, then stood immediately and resumed her pacing.

"Try." Jane's gentle invitation was all that was needed.

"Do you ever feel that change is coming? " At Jane's confused look, Elizabeth added, "That something important is going to happen. Something that will change your life or you, forever?"

Jane's eyes widened. "What do you think is going to happen Lizzy? Nothing bad, I hope?"

Upon seeing Jane's distress, Elizabeth quickly reassured her sister. "No, no, nothing bad. But I feel..." Elizabeth struggled to find the right word. "Expectant, hopeful. Does that make any sense?"

Jane smiled, then laughed. "Not at all. But it sounds wonderful. Maybe something will happen tonight?" Jane said teasingly.

Elizabeth laughed with true delight. "Hmmm...maybe my Knight in Shining Armor will come and sweep me off my feet? Or knock me off my feet, more like!"

Jane joined in her sister's bright laughter.

Their merriment was interrupted by their Aunt coming into the room, exuding palpable excitement. "It is time to ready ourselves for tonight girls. Come."

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Darcy sat in his chair, currently being attended to by his faithful and diligent valet. He waited patiently while his valet finished up his shaving, carefully removing the last of the shaving cream with brisk and deliberate movements.

"Thank you Stevenson." His valet's pleasure was apparent. _Well at least one of us is excited about tonight._His valet had despaired of Darcy ever entering society as a man of his station was expected to do. Darcy's announcement that he would attend some balls this season was received with obvious relief and a rare smile from his aging valet.

Darcy was already dreading tonight's ball. _One more._ With a weary sigh, he stood and with the assistance of his eager valet, dressed for Lynton's ball. At least the man giving the ball was a close acquaintance of Darcy's, if not a close friend.

Sir Reginald Lynton was a leading member of the ton, despite being only a Baronet. He was born the second son, so had not anticipated assuming his late father's role. He had gone by his surname, Lynton since his days at Cambridge due to a decided dislike of his given name. Upon the unexpected death of his elder brother, he had assumed the title. But he remained Lynton, instead of the customary, Sir Reginald. He refused to be called anything else. In fact, he would customarily ignore anyone who addressed him as anything but Lynton. Lost in his thoughts, Darcy did not hear his valet. "What was that Stevenson?"

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Sir?"

"No, that will be all. Thank you."

"Very good, sir. Have a pleasant evening."

Barely refraining from rolling his eyes, Darcy swiftly left his room.

His knowing valet grinned at his Master's retreating back. _One of these days, something, or _someone_will make him appreciate a ball_, he thought.

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Elizabeth sat on the side of the ballroom, catching her breath and resting her aching feet after a rather energetic country dance with a very enthusiastic, if not accomplished dancer. Her Aunt was standing nearby talking with an acquaintance. She took in the magnificence of the ballroom and closed her eyes in appreciation as the beautiful strains of the music washed over her. She thought how she would describe the evening and her surroundings to her father. Smiling slightly, she mentally penned a letter to her father, describing her evening thus far.

_The glittering candles from the chandeliers reflect off the sumptuous jewels of the resplendent women; arrayed in an abundance of lace, feathers, and haughty expressions.__Unfortunately, all their finery cannot hide their lack of intelligent conversation, or ignorant opinions.__I even overheard one woman express the opinion that Napoleon would make a much better ruler than our Regent because the French are so dashing!__And the men are not much better.__Nearly all my dance partners talked of the same things; the weather, the ball, and most importantly (considering the amount of time spent on the subject), hunting, horses, and dogs. Truly father, if I didn't have such an array of human folly to amuse me, I should go mad!__But balls are such an immense source of amusement, don't you agree?_

She paused and considered her last observation. One of her partners _had_ stood out from the rest. Sir Reginald Lynton was everything a gentleman should be, handsome, kind, engaging, and exceedingly charming. Even his conversation had delighted her. She smiled as she thought of their introduction and his insistence that he be addressed as simply Lynton. She had been shocked, then amused as she heard his explanation.

Her musings were interrupted by a slight disturbance to her left. She turned her head to see what captured her attention. Her eyes immediately rested on one of the tallest men she had ever seen. He was surrounded by an array of young misses and their escorts all vying for his attention. Elizabeth was immediately struck by his obvious discomfort, indicated by his stiff posture and blank expression. _How odd.__What man doesn't like the fawning of beautiful women? _And many of them were indeed very beautiful. But he appeared to be ignoring their blatant attempts to get his attention. His gaze steadily scanned the ballroom intently as if he were looking for something, or someone. She felt a sudden and unexpected stab of longing to be so sought after by such a man. She let her eyes wander over the many occupants of the ballroom, trying to see who was the object of such intense searching.

His clenched jaw and forbidding expression was the only indication that he was aware of the many women surrounding him. His displeasure was obvious. _But displeasure of what?_ Maybe he felt the company beneath him? Shaking her head, she silently admonished herself for her unflattering thoughts. She determined not to make a quick judgment. It was clearly apparent that he was uncomfortable with the attention. She felt sudden pity for all those young women who clearly wanted his attention. She wondered briefly what type of woman he _would_ deem worthy of his attention.

Her eyes drifted back to the man and she shamelessly perused his handsome features. His near black hair was slightly curly and rested just above the collar of his well tailored jacket, emphasizing his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Her gaze lingered on his face. His overall appearance was very disarming. He had a strong, defined jaw, with high cheekbones, a well-sculpted nose, and his lips...Elizabeth blushed and averted her eyes in embarrassment, grateful no one had observed her blatant perusal of the gentleman.

His bearing was noble and confident. Here was a man used to being in control. _Although he clearly is not in control now._ She readily admitted that he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. His chin has a dimple, she observed as an afterthought. She wished she knew the color of his eyes...

Her perusal was interrupted by Sir Reginald Lynton coming to ask her for a second dance. She happily accepted and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Darcy was tired. So tired. Mentally weary from one inane conversation after another. He had made an effort, dancing with several of the ladies present. He didn't want to shame his host by stalking the borders of the ballroom as Richard so succinctly put it. The night was not even half over and he was ready to leave. To make matters worse, Richard had not yet arrived. No doubt, his duties at the War Office kept him occupied. Darcy closed his eyes and wished himself miles away, preferably in his bed, asleep, dreaming of _her_. He scanned the ballroom again, searching every face, young and old. With each pass his eyes took of the ballroom, his sense of hopelessness increased. She was not here.

Darcy turned to leave when an unmistakable, almost imperceptible voice urged him to turn and look. Closing his eyes, he thought _Why not?_ So he turned back around and immediately his gaze rested on Lynton. He frowned. He was standing in front of a chair, effectively obscuring the person from his sight. He knew it was a woman as he could see part of her white silk gown. Lynton suddenly stepped back to allow the woman to stand, offering her his arm. He felt his pulse suddenly pick up, and his breath caught as he gazed at the vision before him. _It was her._

A/N: Please don't hate me? I know that is a horrible place to end, but I couldn't help it. I am evil, I know. If I had a moustache I'd be twirling it right now while laughing. I _was_ going to post this as two separate chapters, but decided not to as you guys have been so overwhelmingly supportive and appreciative of my story. Thank you again for everyone who reviewed.

Please review! They feed my muse!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Have I mentioned how amazing you guys are? 71 reviews in 2 days! Well, they fed my muse. So thank you! Here is the result. I hope it meets your expectations. Send me a review and tell me what you think, good and bad.

Chapter 5

Darcy was captivated by the sight of the beautiful woman before him. The drawing did not come close to portraying her beauty. He surreptitiously followed _Her _and Lynton to where they took their places in the dance. He stood behind and slightly to the right of Lynton's shoulder so he could have an unobstructed view. He didn't want to lose her in the crowd.

His eager eyes roved over her features, cataloguing each one in his mind. He wanted to fix this moment in his mind and heart forever, the moment he first laid eyes on _Her_. His heart was beating erratically, and his palms began to sweat. He had to remind himself to breathe.

She was dressed in a simple, but elegant white silk gown. The bodice was adorned with intricate thread and bead work in a cerulean shade. Her hair was unadorned, save for small white silk flowers interspersed in her hair. She was without any glittering jewels, save a simple string of pearls. She was petite, barely reaching his shoulder. Despite her diminutive size, her figure was light and pleasing and she carried herself with a natural poise and grace. She was exquisite. It somehow did not surprise him that she was devoid of the trappings and trimmings so prevalent among the women of the _ton_. He had instinctively known that she would be different.

His eyes rested on her face and lingered, absorbing every detail. Her hair was a rich, dark mahogany, which shined under the glow of candlelight. He knew from his mother's drawing that her hair reached nearly to her waist in large, loose curls. Tonight, her hair was done in a combination of small and large braids, the intricate detail of her hairstyle barely keeping the unruly locks from escaping. A few curls framed her perfectly oval face. Delicate brows rose above the finest pair of dark eyes he had ever seen, which were framed by long lashes. Her perfect nose rested above a generous, pink mouth. She was laughing at something that Lynton had said and her eyes sparkled with radiant light. He felt a sudden wave of jealousy that another man was receiving her attentions.

She was perfect. She shined brighter than all the painted peacocks amongst the _ton_ and he realized that he was not the only one who had noticed. He saw several men of various ages follow her with their eyes with keen interest. He bristled. No one should look at her that way but him.

In that moment, a lovely blond young woman danced down the line with her partner, and as the woman passed _Her_, she reached out and grasped her hand briefly with a light squeeze. He noticed a slight resemblance in the contours of their faces and determined that they must be related, cousins, perhaps.

His gaze returned to her face and in that instant, she looked up and met his intense gaze. As their gazes locked, time seemed to slow until he was aware of no one but the two of them. Her eyes widened imperceptibly and her mouth parted slightly in surprise. She held his gaze with an inquisitive look, but she didn't look away. Her distraction caused her to miss her cue to beginthe dance, and she stumbled slightly, causing a becoming blush over her face. He grinned slightly. As she began to dance down the line, she had a somewhat dazed look on her face.

He followed _Her_ and Lynton as they moved further down the line, staying on the edge of the ballroom, his gaze never faltering from her face. She would meet his gaze from time to time, holding it briefly before looking away with a slight blush. Lynton twirled her around and she was suddenly directly opposite him. When she met his unwavering gaze, she raised one delicate eyebrow in silent inquiry. He couldn't resist responding by smiling broadly, infusing his joy at being in her presence. She gasped and stumbled. Instinctively he reached out and grasped her arm to prevent her from falling. As his hand closed over the warm skin just above her elbow length glove, he felt his whole hand begin to tingle. He leaned down and whispered near her ear, "Are you alright?"

She looked up, her eyes wide and said with a slight stammer, "Y-Yes, Th-Thank you." They continued to hold one another's gaze for what seemed an indeterminate amount of time. Darcy did not think he was even breathing.

The moment was broken when Lynton came rushing over and apologized profusely to the perplexed and dazed woman. "Forgive me, Miss Elizabeth, that was very clumsy of me. I suppose I don't know my own strength." Turning to Darcy, he said, "Thank you Darcy for that timely save. I would not want this lovely lady to take a fall."

Darcy's mind reeled. _Elizabeth_. Her name was Elizabeth. He came back to the present and managed to get out, "It was no trouble at all. I was happy to be of assistance." As he turned to Elizabeth a sudden cry forced his attention away. Before he knew what was happening, Elizabeth had cried out, "Jane!" and rushed past him to kneel in front of the blond woman he had seen earlier. She was clutching her ankle, her face pale. Darcy froze. Before he could move and offer his assistance, Lynton was at hand and with the help of _His_ Elizabeth, they moved the young blond woman off the dance floor.

The disturbance had caused the dance to come to an abrupt halt and before Darcy could move, he was surrounded on all sides by people. Frustrated, he tried to get through the crush to get to _His_ Elizabeth and offer his assistance. He couldn't loose her! Not now! Vainly, he tried to glimpse through the crowd to where she had gone, but there were too many people in his way. Groaning in aggravation, he ran his hands through his hair.

Suddenly a thought transfixed him. _Lynton._ Of course. He would know who she was. Closing his eyes, he sighed in relief. Before the night was out he would know exactly who she was and with whom she was staying. And he would find a way for them to become properly introduced. Darcy smiled contentedly. _She had come._

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Elizabeth's mind was in a tumult. In truth, she didn't know what to think. She forced herself to focus on her sister. Jane needed her right now. She could indulge in thoughts of _him _later, when she was alone. Supporting her sister's weight with the help of Mr Lynton, they made their way over to their Aunt Gardiner.

Upon seeing her niece in obvious pain, Mrs Gardiner immediately vacated the chair she had been sitting upon. "Why, my dear Jane! What has happened?"

Collapsing in the chair, Jane gasped, "I turned my ankle. I believe it is only a sprain, Aunt. No need to worry yourself."

Sharing a look of commiseration with Elizabeth, she turned to Mr Lynton and asked, "Would you be so kind to call our carriage, Sir Reginald?"

"Would it not be better for Miss Bennet to remain here until her ankle is healed? I can call for a doctor..."

Before he could continue, Mrs Gardiner said kindly, but firmly, "That will not be necessary, Sir Reginald. We do not live far from here and I know Jane would be much more comfortable in her own surroundings. Thank you for your offer, but I believe it will be best if we leave."

"Of course, Mrs Gardiner. Please remain here and I will come and assist Miss Bennet myself when your carriage is ready."

"You are very kind, Mr Lynton. Thank you." Elizabeth smiled warmly at her dance partner.

"It is my pleasure to be of assistance, Miss Elizabeth." With a bow, he quickly departed.

As soon as Mr Lynton had left, they were accosted by several ladies all wanting to know what had happened. Mrs Gardiner spoke to them while Elizabeth attended to her sister.

"Are you well Jane?" Elizabeth looked anxiously at her sister.

"I am well enough Lizzy. But, oh! I am mortified! What an inauspicious beginning to our season in town!" Jane's distress was evident on her beautiful face.

"Don't worry, Jane. It will be forgot. You'll see. They will simply remember you as the most beautiful woman at the ball!" Elizabeth laughed lightly.

Jane smiled and grasped her sister's hand. "I am sorry you have to leave so early, Lizzy. I don't mean to spoil your evening."

Elizabeth's mind wandered to the tall, handsome man who had gazed at her with such intensity. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of blue. And his smile...Elizabeth blushed thinking of her reaction to that disarming smile.

Noting her sister's blush and guessing it had something to do with their host, Jane said knowingly, "Sir Reginald is a very handsome and charming man."

Elizabeth gazed at her sister in astonishment. "What do you mean Jane?"

"You know exactly what I mean. Your face betrays you, sister dear," Jane said with a teasing laugh.

"That's not... I mean... I don't know..." Exasperated, Elizabeth took a deep breath, and said quietly, "Something happened tonight, but I can't speak of it here. Not now."

It was Jane's turn to look at her sister in astonishment. "What happened?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Tonight. I promise."

Jane gave her sister a searching look, "I'll hold you to that promise, Lizzy."

Before Elizabeth could respond, Mr Lynton arrived to assist Jane to their carriage. As Elizabeth left the ballroom, she turned and scanned the occupants to see if she could catch another glimpse of _him_. _Had he even been real?_ _Did she imagine it all?_ Not seeing him in the crowd, Elizabeth hurried to catch up to her sister and Aunt.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Later that night, Elizabeth stood outside the door to her sister's room. Pausing briefly, she took a slow, deep breath and knocked lightly on the door.

After hearing Jane's quiet, "Come in Lizzy." Elizabeth opened the door and entered. Walking to Jane's bed, she climbed up beside her sister, careful not to jostle her propped ankle. She began to fidget with the coverlet of the bed knowing Jane would begin the conversation.

"Well? Are you going to explain that mysterious statement you made earlier this evening, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth looked at her sister's expectant expression. _Where to begin? _ Elizabeth jumped up from the bed and began pacing agitatedly. How could she adequately express everything she had felt? Would Jane think it was simply her imagination? That she had created what happened...While Elizabeth was engaged in her internal debate, Jane followed her movements with a confused look on her face.

Misinterpreting her sister's anxiousness for distress, she concernedly asked, "Nothing...bad happened, did it Lizzy?"

"No! No, it was not bad. Not at all. In fact, it was quite the opposite." Elizabeth smiled reassuringly at her sister. "I am just uncertain how to explain what happened. It seems so unreal, like something that happens in a dream, not real life. I just don't know where to begin."

"Well...I find it easiest if you start at the beginning." Jane said with an impish grin.

Elizabeth laughed. "You are right, of course. I am being nonsensical." Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth began. "Right before Mr Lynton asked me to dance for the second time tonight, I...I noticed a man near me." Elizabeth paused and glanced at her sister to ascertain her reaction. Her face was calm, neutral. She continued. "I noticed he was surrounded by many beautiful women, all trying to get his attention." Remembering the bevy of beauties, she burst out, "Jane! They were making such a spectacle of themselves. I was truly ashamed to be a member of their sex. I have never seen so many fluttering fans and swooning misses in all my life!"

At this outburst, Jane simply raised her eyebrows and calmly asked, "And the man? What was his reaction to this spectacle?"

"He ignored them all."

"Indeed? How extraordinary."

"It was, truly. Jane, what man does not enjoy the attentions of beautiful women? And not only did he ignore them but he seemed extremely uncomfortable. But that was not the most extraordinary thing." Elizabeth resumed her pacing. "Not only was he ignoring them all, but he was searching the ballroom with the most intense expression on his face. It was like he was looking for someone. The look on his face was so desperate. I felt for him, wishing that he would find whomever he was looking for." Elizabeth looked at Jane sheepishly, "I even felt a longing to be the object of his intense search."

"So, is he handsome then?" Jane said mischievously.

"Very. Indeed, he is the most handsome man I have ever seen." Elizabeth blushed as she thought of _him_.

"Go on. What happened next?" Jane leaned forward slightly in anticipation. She had a feeling she knew where this was headed and she was anxious to have her sister confirm her suspicions.

"It happened right after you passed me in the dance line and grasped my hand." Elizabeth said dreamily.

"What happened?" Seeing her sister's dazed expression. She threw a pillow at her to get her attention. "Lizzy! What happened?"

Elizabeth looked up startled then looked down at the pillow at her feet. Shaking her head to clear her mind of her stupor, she said, "I looked up and he was standing directly behind Mr Lynton and he was, he was..."

Jane was almost bent over in half in anticipation. "He was what? Lizzy!"

"He was staring. At me."

Jane sat back with a satisfied smile. "And?" She prompted impatiently.

"I don't know how to explain it! His gaze was so...it was so..." Elizabeth struggled to adequately express what she had seen in his eyes.

"Heated? Fervent?" Jane suggested.

Elizabeth stared at her sister is shock, her mouth dropping open. What happened to demure Jane? She started giggling, collapsing on the bed. She gasped, "Jane Bennet! What has come over you?"

Jane blushed, but unashamedly continued, "Well, was it?"

Elizabeth sat up, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes. "He looked at me like he _knew_ me. His gaze was elated, joyful. Gone was the desperation I had observed before."

"How did you feel when you looked at him?"

Elizabeth looked at her sister and without hesitation responded. "Hopeful. Expectant."

Jane nodded thoughtfully. "That is an echo of your words before the ball, Lizzy."

Elizabeth pondered her sister's words. She thought back to their earlier conversation before the ball when she had been trying to express what she was feeling. She _had_ used those very words, trying to describe the change that she felt coming, something that would change her forever. Her eyes widened in realization. "I did. Jane! What does it mean?"

"I think it is obvious. _He_ is the change you felt coming."

"But how? Why?" Elizabeth stood up and resumed her pacing. She abruptly stopped as she recalled another part of her conversation with Jane before the ball. She began laughing. "Jane! I also said that he would knock me off my feet! And he did! " As an afterthought, she added, "Nearly."

"What? "Jane sat up in alarm. "He knocked you off your feet? When?"

"I said nearly. I would have fallen, but he caught me by grasping my arm." Unconsciously, Elizabeth rubbed where his hand had gently gripped her upper arm. She remembered the feel of his strong fingers as he had gently encircled her arm. His hand had been so warm. She shivered.

"But why did you almost fall?"

Embarrassed, Elizabeth responded, "He...he smiled at me, which rendered my legs temporarily useless. And I stumbled."

Jane began laughing. "I see. It must have been quite a smile."

"Oh, it was. I thought him handsome before, but when he smiles..." Elizabeth smiled dreamily at the recollection. "I understand now why so many woman fawn over him. He is definitely a hazard to women's health." She laughed, then continued, "And his voice..."

"He spoke to you? What did he say?"

"He asked if I was alright." Elizabeth tried to remember the exact timbre of his voice. It was a deep baritone, rich, full, strong, but...warm. She shivered again.

"So, who is this paragon of masculine splendor?"

Elizabeth froze. "I...I don't know. We didn't exactly have time to exchange names, Mr Lynton appeared almost immediately, apologizing for causing my stumble."

"I thought this mystery man caused your stumble."

"He did. But Mr Lynton did not know that."

"So you don't know his name and he doesn't know your name..." Jane trailed off, her eyes widening in realization.

"I know, Jane. I have no idea if I will ever see him again. It is possible that Mr Lynton addressed him by his name, but I was still so dazed by our interaction that I barely took in what they were saying." Elizabeth flopped inelegantly on the bed in exasperation. "So it is unlikely that anything will come of it."

"Maybe Mr Lynton will divulge his name?"

Elizabeth looked at her sister in astonishment. "Jane! That would not be proper. Imagine me inquiring after a man I don't know to a man I have barely met! No, no that won't do at all."

"Well, maybe your mystery man will have no such scruples. I am sure he will have no problem at all discovering who _you_ are."

Elizabeth sat up as she realized a terrible possibility. "Jane, you don't think he is one of _those _kind of men, do you?"

"I'm sure he is not, Lizzy. But what do your instincts tell you about him?"

Elizabeth searched her heart. She was so unfamiliar with men of the world, she did not know if she would recognize a dishonorable man from an honorable one. But then she remembered the way she had felt when she looked in his eyes, and the look she had seen in his. There was nothing evil lurking behind that handsome face, she was sure of it. "He is a good man, I think." As she said it, she felt in her heart confirm that it was so.

Jane smiled in satisfaction. "Well, I guess we will just have to sit back and be patient." With a playful grin she added, "I can't wait!"

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Darcy paced back and forth in his study the morning following the ball. He had not been able to sleep; his thoughts alternating between euphoria and anger. Euphoria at finally finding _Elizabeth_, he smiled, and anger that Lynton had evaded his numerous attempts to talk to him_.__It's almost as if he knew what I was after, _Darcy grumbled. Each time he had tried to approach him, Lynton had successfully avoided his presence. That man was more slippery than an eel.

As soon as he had returned to his Townhouse, he had sent off an urgent message to Richard to come as soon as possible. He might have mentioned that it was a matter of life or death. He needed Richard to help him track down Lynton and find out Elizabeth's family name, and more importantly where she was residing. Richard would know which club Lynton frequented most regularly and when he was usually present.

_Where was he?_ Darcy looked at his pocket watch again to check the time. Nine o'clock. Darcy groaned. Richard was a late sleeper, and unless he had business to attend to would often sleep past noon. He was contemplating whether or not to go to Matlock House and rouse his lazy cousin from bed, when he heard the front door bell. _Please let that be Richard, _he prayed.

A moment later, his butler announced his cousin. Richard rushed into the room, with a rather wild look in his eye. "Darcy! What is it? Is everything alright? Is Georgiana well?"

Darcy realized that he probably should not have indicated in his message that it was a matter of life or death. He sighed. Well, he was here. That was the important thing. Darcy held up his hands reassuringly, "Calm yourself, Richard. Georgiana and I are well." Darcy took in Richard's rumpled appearance. His cousin was normally fastidious to a fault when it came to grooming. "Are you well, cousin?"

Richard stared at Darcy with a hard look. "Darcy, I swear, if you or Georgiana are not on the brink of some great catastrophe, I will cause one!"

"Well, there is a catastrophe, Richard. I need your help."

Richard's attitude changed immediately from hardened soldier, to solicitous friend. "Of course, Darcy, I am at your disposal." Taking a seat, he inquired calmly, "what is the catastrophe?"

Darcy took a seat opposite Richard and looked at his cousin, his best friend. Darcy sighed and smiled widely.

Richard stared at Darcy in shock. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen such an open smile on his gloomy cousin's face. What could possibly have caused his cousin such happiness and joy?

At Richard's shocked look, Darcy grinned wider and raised one brow. "Come now cousin. I know it is early in the morning, but even you can put two and two together."

Richard frowned. Sudden realization came swiftly and with energy, Richard nearly shouted, "You found her!"

Darcy laughed. "She was at Lynton's ball last night."

"Tell me everything." Richard leaned forward in anticipation. Of all the events to miss, he had to miss the one where Darcy finally found his lady love. Life really was not fair sometimes.

Darcy described the evening from the first moment he laid eyes on her, to their numerous exchanged looks, to preventing her fall, and her rushing off to help a woman with a sprained ankle.

"So her name is Elizabeth?" Richard grinned. How fitting that Darcy's lady love share the name of a Queen.

"I was not able to find out her family name, or where she was staying." Darcy ran his hands through his hair. "Lynton was surprisingly uncooperative."

"No doubt. Didn't you tell me that he had been dancing with your Elizabeth when she almost stumbled?"

"Yes...what does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, did it ever occur to you that maybe he had taken a special interest in her?"

"Surely not!"

"It is not outside the realm of possibility, Darcy. So what are you going to do?"

"This is where I could use your assistance cousin."

"Name it. I will do anything to help you find out who she is."

Darcy shared with Richard his idea to talk to Lynton while at his club. Stalk him if necessary.

"Hmmm..." Richard rubbed his chin in thought. "If Lynton is not forthcoming about your Elizabeth, tactics will have to be taken."

"Whatever it takes, Richard. I _have_ to find her."

"We will. Lynton may be evasive, but I assure you he is no match for a military man!" Richard gave Darcy a sly look, "But in the meantime, it wouldn't hurt to attend a few more social events, now, would it?"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

The morning following the Bennet sister's debut in London Society found Elizabeth Bennet in the garden attached to the Gardiners Townhome. Elizabeth loved this garden. She knew that her Aunt and Uncle had chosen this particular Townhome with her in mind as it had one of the larger gardens; although her Aunt would have her believe it was for her love of flowers. Elizabeth wandered the well trodden pathway, occasionally pausing to admire the tulips and early spring flowers. She let her thoughts flow unchecked as she leisurely meandered to the back of the garden.

The excitement of the evening before and her conversation with Jane prior to bed had caused Elizabeth a poor night's rest. In truth, she had not slept at all. In the quiet hours of the dark, her mind had dwelt on every detail of her interaction with _him_. She went over every look, every detail of his appearance, every word, and his touch...Her mind lingered on that moment and she blushed. Her bewildered mind could not make sense of what had happened. _Why did he look at her that way?_ She had realized after pondering that particular thought, that he had been searching for her. _But why?__How did he know her?_ As the first rays of light had crept into her bedroom, she had conceded that sleep would not be found and had quickly risen, dressed and went to the garden. Maybe the light of a new day would add fresh perspective to her troublesome thoughts.

Coming to the large oak tree, she sat upon the beautiful, intricate wrought iron bench resting beneath the tree. Gazing up to the branches she thought it was the perfect tree for climbing. Feeling impulsive and slightly reckless, Elizabeth quickly stood on the bench and reached up to the lowest hanging branch. Quickly pulling herself up, she climbed until she was halfway to the top. Finding a sturdy, somewhat comfortable branch, she stopped and made herself comfortable.

As a young child she had loved to climb trees; feeling safe and secure high above the ground, amidst the branches. If she were being honest with herself, she had climbed trees to escape her mother's censure. An unfortunate fall at the age of 13 had resulted in a broken arm and put an end to her tree climbing...until now. Suddenly feeling liberated, she laughed. _If the ton could see me now!__I would be ridiculed out of polite society!_

Elizabeth's laughter faded as her thoughts wandered again to _him_ and the events of last night. Could he have mistaken her for someone else? Maybe he had gazed at her in that intense way because she resembled someone he had known. Maybe a lost love? Her heart stopped at the thought. She shook her head angrily. _Stop being ridiculous!_ she berated herself. _You don't even know him!_ _He doesn't even know you!_But despite the logic of her thoughts, her heart belied common sense. She couldn't adequately explain it, but from her first glimpse, she had felt drawn to him in an indescribable way. When she had observed his intense discomfort at being ogled like an exotic animal on display, she had felt compassion. When she observed the desperation in his eyes and the hopelessness in his demeanor as he scanned the ballroom, she felt an intense desire to relieve his pain. She knew instinctively that he was a man who was suffering and carrying a heavy burden.

His desperation and hopelessness had vanished as he had gazed upon her. She closed her eyes as she fixed that look in her mind and heart. She knew that if she lived to be a hundred, she would never forget the intensity of his gaze. He had looked at her like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time.

A short time later, Elizabeth began to feel uncomfortable and so began carefully to make her way to the ground. Coming to the bench, she jumped down, startling a maid who had obviously been searching for her.

Laughing, Elizabeth made her apologies and followed the astounded maid back to the house.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

"Did you rest well, Jane?" Elizabeth smiled at her sister as she entered her sister's room later that morning.

"Well enough." Jane wearily responded.

"Jane, if you are in pain, you need to say so," Elizabeth lightly admonished her sister. Elizabeth knew her sister would rather suffer in silence than cause any perceived inconvenience.

"I am well, Lizzy. Don't fret." Jane looked at her sister, taking in her tired eyes, and subdued manner. "You did not sleep?"

Elizabeth turned her back to her sister and began preparing a draught left by the doctor for her sister's pain. "No, Jane. I did not."

Jane sighed lightly. "I am sorry, Lizzy. I should not have insisted you talk with me last night. I could have waited until this morning."

"It wouldn't have made a difference, Jane." Elizabeth turned and handed her sister a glass with her medicine. "In fact, it helped me to clarify my thoughts on the matter." Elizabeth sat on the chair besides her sister's bed. "I've decided that it was all a figment of my fanciful imagination. I've read too many novels. That is all." She looked down at her lap.

Jane snorted. "You don't really believe that, Lizzy!"

Elizabeth's head shot up. "I do!"

"You do not! I know you, Lizzy. You are not one to be overtaken with a flight of fancy. Lydia on the other hand..." Jane's voice trailed off. She looked firmly at her sister. "What do you really think, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth sighed and slumped back in her chair. "I don't know Jane. The more I think about it, the less sense it makes."

"Maybe it is something that can't be explained through rational means."

Elizabeth raised her brow and asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that some things happen in this world that can't entirely be explained. I believe that you and your mystery man have a connection that defies rational explanation. You felt a connection Lizzy. I know you did. Don't deny it." Jane pointed her finger at her sister.

Elizabeth stood and began pacing. "That's just it Jane! _Why_ do I feel drawn to him?"

"So, you do admit it." Jane grinned triumphantly at her sister.

Elizabeth shook her head. "I think it is more likely that he thought I looked like someone he knew. Someone he lost, a loved one, perhaps."

"But that doesn't explain why _you_ feel drawn to him, Lizzy," Jane said patiently.

"Maybe it's because I only find him the handsomest man of my acquaintance. I am simply making this into something it is not. Besides, what could he possibly see in me? I am nothing a man of his station could desire..."

"Stop!" Jane interrupted her sister's erroneous words. "Those are our mother's words, Lizzy. Nothing she has told you is true. You are allowing her opinions to affect your own."

"I can't help it, Jane. I hear her words in my head." Elizabeth held up her fingers, and holding them up one by one said, "I am plain, headstrong, opinionated, impertinent, high-spirited..."

"All false, Lizzy. You are beautiful, steadfast, witty, intelligent, and lively. Not to mention loyal, kind, and the best sister and friend a woman could ever hope to have." Jane looked tenderly at her sister and best friend. "You have never seen yourself clearly, Lizzy. _You_ make a lasting impression on others. The strength of your character makes _you_ unforgettable."

Elizabeth gazed at her sister, tears in her eyes. Wordlessly, she embraced her sister and turned to leave the room.

Before Elizabeth reached the door, Jane said, "I wrote to Miss Darcy to inform her that you would be the only one attending tea tomorrow."

Elizabeth spun around. "What? Jane, I can't leave you here alone!"

"Don't be silly. Aunt Gardiner and I already decided. We know you are looking forward to spending more time with Miss Darcy. She is a dear girl. We can't deprive her of all her company. You know how shy she is.."

"Alright. Alright." Elizabeth held up her hands in conciliatory manner. "I'll go. Besides, I promised I'd tell her all about our first ball."

"And will you tell her about your mystery man?" Jane said teasingly.

"I hardly know how I would describe that in a manner befitting a young, impressionable 15 year old girl."

Jane shrugged her shoulders. "You did promise to tell her _everything_."

Elizabeth made a face at her sister. "We'll see. I'll wait and see how the conversation progresses. If I feel it is appropriate I'll tell her...something." With a last smile, Elizabeth left her sister's room.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was used to getting what he wanted. As the second son of an Earl, he grew up with every privilege a man of his station could expect. It was a testament to his character that when he chose the Army as his profession, he did so without the influence and connections of his family name. He entered the Army as a lowly Lieutenant and rose through the ranks due to his hard work, intelligence, and pleasant personality. What most people did not realize was that behind the open, easy manners of Richard Fitzwilliam lay a tenacious, assertive, and fearless individual.

He stood on the threshold of the card room at White's, carefully and unobtrusively taking in the occupants. He had every reason to believe that Lynton would be present this evening. He was an avid Faro player and could be found in the card room most evenings, unless he had a social engagement.

Richard spied Lynton sitting alone at one of the back tables and began to make his way towards him. Not wanting to take a direct approach, Richard stopped to talk with acquaintances along his way to the back of the room. When he got close enough to Lynton's position he paused at the nearest table and spoke at length to another acquaintance. Luckily, Lynton saw him and called out a greeting.

Smiling slightly, Richard casually greeted Lynton. "I didn't think I'd find you here tonight, Lynton. Weren't you to attend Lord Morton's ball? " With a wink, he added, "I've see you escorting the youngest daughter around town. Pretty little thing."

Lynton grinned. "She is just a family friend, nothing more." Giving Richard a calculating look, he added, "Speaking of pretty little things, your cousin sure found one of my guests interesting last night."

Surprised that the topic came up so abruptly, Richard adopted an air of indifference and said, "Indeed? That sounds unlike my fastidious cousin. He's famous for not finding any of the misses worth his notice."

"Well, I have to admit, Miss Elizabeth is quite different from the normal offerings of the _ton_. I am not at all surprised she caught his eye." Lynton smirked. "In fact, he followed me around for the rest of the evening. No doubt wanting to find out her name. Am I correct?" Lynton smiled knowingly. Not waiting for Richard to respond, he continued, "Darcy must really be keen to learn who she is if she sent you to get the information."

Deciding to take a direct approach, Richard responded, "Seems I forgot one of the first rules of warfare. Never underestimate your opponent."

Lynton laughed good naturedly. "No, you should not. Especially if that opponent can beat you in chess with his eyes closed."

"Hah! That was once, and you got me drunk beforehand."

Lynton grinned. "Well, can you blame me? I had a lot of money riding on the outcome of that chess match. I had to win."

"So you cheated?"

"No. I simply evened out the playing field."

Richard snorted. "Well, then consider my request on behalf of my cousin compensation for that dastardly deed."

Lynton looked seriously at Richard. "I will give you the information you seek, willingly. On one condition."

Richard raised his eyebrows. He nodded, motioning for Lynton to continue.

Lynton looked Richard directly in the eye, and said, "I will give you the information, if you give me your word your cousin's intentions are entirely honorable."

Richard looked aghast at Lynton. "We are talking about Darcy, Lynton. Do either of us know a more honorable man?"

Lynton sighed. "I know, but I had to be sure. I have never understood Darcy's complete aversion to society. I thought maybe he had developed some...darker habits. Forgive me Richard. I hope I didn't offend."

Richard shook his head. "No, but it's a good thing you voiced your concerns to me and not Darcy. He wouldn't be so forgiving."

Lynton exhaled slowly. "Her name is Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She resides in Hertfordshire on her father's estate; which is called Longbourn. She and her older sister, a Miss Jane Bennet are currently residing with their Aunt and Uncle, Mr and Mrs Edward Gardiner."

Richard stared at Lynton in astonishment. Then suddenly he burst out laughing.

Lynton simply raised his eyebrows in obvious surprise and amusement.

Richard continued to laugh loudly, leaning forward in his chair, he gasped, "Oh the irony!" before succumbing to laughter once again.

"Care to explain, Richard?"

Rising to his feet, Richard shook his head. "Trust me, you don't want to know." With that, Richard took his leave. "Thank you, Lynton. Darcy really appreciates it."

After Richard left, Lynton rested his elbows on the table, deep in thought. He hadn't wanted to give up the information on Miss Elizabeth. He had found in her a rare jewel worth pursuing. _I hope Darcy is up for a little competition._

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Darcy waited anxiously for Richard to arrive. He had sent a note late the previous evening that he would come today, but he hadn't specified when. Darcy tried to occupy his thoughts and pass the time by completing a few matters of business, but he couldn't concentrate. He had every reason to hope that Richard would arrive with good news. Soon he would know Elizabeth's name and where she was staying.

Focusing his attention on the matters at hand, he quickly finished his business correspondence. Placing his letters in the appropriate tray, he stood and wandered through the connecting door from his study to the library. A good book would help pass the time until Richard arrived. Browsing his organized shelves, he grabbed a random book and absentmindedly flipped through the pages before placing it back on the shelf with a sigh of frustration. As he wandered over to the opposite side of the library, he heard an unmistakable knock on the door.

_Finally!_ He quickly returned to his study to await Richard. Moments passed and the butler did not announce his cousin. Confused, Darcy walked to his study door and opened it. At the end of the hall, he spied Georgiana being followed by an unknown woman. Frowning, Darcy wondered who could be visiting his sister. He was about to follow his sister and her visitor, when the butler, followed by Richard appeared.

"Richard! It's about time. Come in."

"It's good to see you too, cousin." Richard gave Darcy a mocking bow.

"I'm sorry, Richard. Please come in."

"I'm teasing you Darcy. I know you are impatiently awaiting the news I have to impart." Richard grinned.

"You have her name?" Darcy asked eagerly.

"I do."

Darcy looked at Richard in anticipation. When it became apparent that he would not be forthcoming with any further information, he impatiently said, "Well? Are you going to tell me?" Richard's only response was a cheeky grin. "Richard!" Darcy growled.

Richard laughed. "I'm sorry Darcy. This is just too much fun! I want to fix this moment in my memory forever."

Darcy barely refrained from rolling his eyes. "Richard, I have waited eleven years for this."

"Then what's one more minute?"

'Richard, please. I am not in the mood for this."

"Oh, very well."

Before Richard could say anything else, he was interrupted by a soft knock on his study door. Darcy growled. "Enter!"

Georgiana poked her head in the door, with a wide grin. "Sorry to bother you brother. I was wondering if I could introduce you to my friend?"

Darcy sensed rather than saw someone hovering behind his sister. Darcy rubbed his eyes. He couldn't. Not now. "I'm sorry, Georgiana. Richard is here and we are discussing something very important. If we finish quickly, we will come find you, alright?" Darcy smiled gently at his sister.

Georgiana was disappointed, but she covered it by smiling. "Very well. I'll be taking her on a tour of the house. We are to take tea in about an hour."

"We'll come find you."

After Georgiana shut the door, Darcy turned to his cousin in anticipation. "Well, what is her name?"

Ignoring Darcy, Richard, with a slightly confused look, inquired, "Since when does Georgiana entertain guests? I didn't think she had anyone but family over for tea."

"I don't know." Darcy shrugged. "Someone she met at your mother's, I believe."

"My mother's? That seems unlikely. My mother is not fond of the ladies of the _ton_. She hates it when new debutantes try to get in her good graces for the express purpose of meeting _you_. They learn quickly that my mother is no fool."

Darcy laughed. "That doesn't stop her from trying to match me with all the daughters, nieces, and cousins of her friends and acquaintances," Darcy said in disgust. "I hope they aren't trying a new angle; befriending Georgiana to meet me. She is probably some mindless, greedy young miss who can't say two words of sense! Or worse, blathers on and on about mundane things like fashion and gossip."

Richard laughed. "Well, I don't think you'll have that problem. Now, where were we?" Richard wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Ah, yes! The name of your lady love. Well, dear cousin. The name of your Miss Elizabeth, is Bennet."

Darcy frowned. _Bennet._ Where had he heard that name before? He knew he had heard it recently. He searched his memory, trying to recall.

Seeing Darcy's bewildered expression, Richard decided to take pity on his cousin. "If you're wondering where you have heard that name before, Miss Elizabeth Bennet is one of the infamous nieces of Mrs Gardiner!" Richard looked expectantly at Darcy, watching an array of emotions pass over his face. Yes, he would remember this moment forever.

Darcy stared at Richard. Elizabeth. Gardiner. Niece. Jane. Georgiana! Darcy's mind was rapidly trying to make sense of his jumbled thoughts. He remembered that Georgiana was entertaining the Miss Bennets and Mrs Gardiner for tea today But...Miss Bennet, Jane had sprained her ankle at Lynton's Ball, so she wouldn't be here. That meant...Darcy's face paled as he realized the young friend of Georgiana's could be none other than _His _Elizabeth.

Richard watched Darcy as he made his startling revelation; although he didn't realize the significance or the connection between Georgiana and her friend. Seeing Darcy's face suddenly pale, he asked with concern, "Darcy, are you well?"

"She's here," Darcy whispered.

Richard leaned forward, "What? Who's here?" Not getting a response, he repeated, Darcy! Who's here?"

Darcy looked up at Richard with dawning realization. "Richard! Elizabeth! She's here!"

Thinking that Darcy had finally cracked, he asked again, "Who's here, Darcy?"

"Elizabeth!" Darcy's body finally caught up with his brain and without a word he turned and practically ran from the room, leaving behind a very bewildered Richard.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Elizabeth arrived at Darcy House with no small amount of trepidation. Her Aunt and Uncle lived in a very nice area of town, but this, this was something altogether more grand and intimidating. Elizabeth stared in awe at the facade of Darcy House as she climbed the steps to the massive front door. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that nothing unknown resided within. Just her sweet and wonderful young friend, who was expecting her.

Elizabeth was efficiently ushered into the beautiful foyer of Darcy House. She discreetly looked around, impressed with what she saw. Despite the imposing facade, the interior was tastefully elegant and unpretentious. Elizabeth half expected the interior to reveal extravagance and an ostentatious display of wealth.

Elizabeth's discreet inspection of her friend's home was interrupted by Georgiana quickly descending the steps to her friend.

"Miss Elizabeth! I am so glad you are here. I hope Miss Bennet is recovering well? I was so sorry to hear of her incident. It must be extremely painful."

Elizabeth smiled at her exuberant young friend. "Thank you for inviting me, Miss Darcy. Yes, Jane is recovering well. Thank you."

Grabbing Elizabeth by the hand, she took her down the hall to the drawing room. As they reached the door, Georgiana stopped. "Oh! I want to introduce you to my brother. Then I thought I would take you on a tour of the house before tea. Would that suit you?"

"I wouldn't want to inconvenience your brother, Miss Darcy."

"Oh, it is no trouble, I assure you. Fitzwilliam is the best of brothers, you'll see!"

Elizabeth found herself being led in the opposite direction. She had to refrain from giggling. Georgiana's enthusiasm was very endearing. Stopping in front of a large, closed door, Georgiana softly knocked, then opened the door to poke her head in.

Georgiana asked her brother if she could introduce her. When her brother responded, Elizabeth froze. _That voice_. She _knew _that voice. She had to refrain from stepping around Georgiana to peer inside the room to see what her ears had already determined. _It was him!__He_ is Georgiana's brother, Mr Darcy. Would he come out? What would he do when he saw her? Elizabeth had to force herself to take a deep breath to calm her suddenly racing heart.

Hearing Georgiana's farewell, she realized that he was not coming out. She didn't know if she should feel relieved or disappointed.

Georgiana turned to face her after shutting the door. "He's with my cousin, Richard. He said he'd come find us when they were done. Gesturing to a door she asked, "How about we start the tour in the library?"

Numbly, Elizabeth nodded and automatically followed Georgina into the library. He said he would find them later. Elizabeth suddenly felt very, very nervous. What would she say? She wasn't prepared for meeting him like this. In his home! What would he think?

Realizing that Georgiana was talking, Elizabeth focused on her friend.

"I am going to inform Mrs White that my brother and cousin will join us for tea. You don't mind waiting here in the library, do you? I know how much you love books."

"Of course not. I'll wait here."

With a smile, Georgiana left the room. Elizabeth wandered over to one side of the massive library, perusing books as she went. Her father would be in paradise surrounded by so many books. It would take more than a lifetime to read them all. As she approached the opposite side of the room, she noticed a door that stood slightly ajar. Nearing the door, she heard laughter. _His_ laughter. Quickly realizing that it must be the connecting door to Mr Darcy's study, she hesitated. Curiosity outweighed propriety and she crept closer. She rationalized her actions by telling herself she simply wanted to hear Mr Darcy's voice again; to convince herself she hadn't imagined it. As she stepped nearer, she was rewarded with the sound of his low, pleasant baritone voice.

_"...trying a new angle; befriending Georgiana to meet me.__She is probably some mindless, greedy young miss who can't say two words of sense!__Or worse, blathers on and on about mundane things, like fashion and gossip."_

Elizabeth reeled back in shock. He was talking about her! Putting a hand over her racing heart, she quickly stepped back from the door. Hearing a different male voice, she retreated to the opposite side of the room. _Serves me right, eavesdropping on a private conversation!_

Elizabeth tried to make sense of what she had heard. Did he really think she was like that? Greedy? Mindless? Shaking her head, she realized that he couldn't know she was Miss Darcy's friend. He didn't even know her name! Or did he? Pacing the library, Elizabeth felt her ire rise. How dare he? How dare he insinuate that she was using his sister to meet him! He didn't even know her! Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth tried to think rationally.

Again, her mind wandered to that night at the ball. Their instant connection. She hadn't imagined it. Jane was right. It couldn't be explained by normal means, but it _had _happened. The question remained, did he know _She _was Miss Darcy's friend? If he did, it changed everything. It meant he couldn't have felt the same connection that she did; there was some other explanation. She again wondered if he looked at her because she resembled someone else. Elizabeth felt an almost physical pain at the thought.

_It doesn't matter!_The only thing I have to decide right now is how I am going to act when I meet him? Polite, but distant? Vapid? Loquacious? Elizabeth's first impression would either confirm or deny his assumption that she was using Miss Darcy to get to him. She wanted to prove to him that she wasn't like _them_. She didn't allow herself to think why it mattered so much. So, she would be herself. She would not let him get away with his erroneous statement.

Nodding her head at her decision, she turned and headed to the door thinking Miss Darcy should have been back by now. Opening the door, Elizabeth stepped outside and immediately collided with a tall, solid form. Firm hands gripped her upper arms to prevent her from falling and she looked up into the startled, piercing blue gaze of Mr Darcy.

A/N: I know, I know. I did it again. I can't seem to help myself :). Would you believe I am in as much suspense as you to read their first interaction? What do you think will happen? Should Elizabeth be hard on Mr Darcy? Forgiving? Cold? Distant? Please leave me a review and tell me what you think. Thanks!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: A reader pointed out that you don't put cream in tea, but milk and if you put lemon with milk it will curdle. So I went back and changed it. Forgive me - I don't drink tea :) Thank you to Janeite for the correction!

Chapter Seven

Elizabeth closed her eyes in mortification. _Not again!_ Taking a deep breath, her senses were invaded by his scent; a mixture of sandalwood, clean linen and something distinctly him. Quickly disengaging herself from Mr Darcy's firm grip, she stepped back. Unable to meet his gaze, she said, "Forgive me, sir. I was not watching where I was going." Squaring her shoulders, she took a fortifying breath and forced herself to meet his gaze. She almost faltered under his intense perusal. His gaze was warm and slightly amused.

"The fault is mine." He took a hesitant step towards her. "Are you alright?"

Elizabeth lightly laughed, "Yes. I am fine." With a mischievous look, she added, "You are very helpful to have around, sir. That is the second time you have prevented me from falling flat on my face."

Mr Darcy smiled. "As I believe I was the cause of your stumble on both occasions, I would have to protest and say I am hazardous to your health."

"Then what would you suggest, sir?" Elizabeth raised one eyebrow.

With a slight smile, Mr Darcy responded, "Hmmm...I would say to avoid me at all costs, but..." his gaze softened and in a deep, intimate voice said, "I cannot. Therefore, you will have to allow me to ensure your safety by being near you to prevent such a mishap from occurring again."

Elizabeth laughed, and responded playfully, "That, sir, is not very practical, and I fear, a terrible inconvenience for you."

"Believe me, it is no inconvenience." Mr Darcy gazed at her with such warm intensity, that Elizabeth lost all rational thought. Wordlessly, they gazed at one another for an indeterminate amount of time.

Someone cleared their throat nearby, which caused them break each other's gaze. Turning, Elizabeth saw a man that must be Miss Darcy's cousin; and if she was not mistaken, Lady Eleanor's son, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam.

Richard raised his eyebrows in amusement, and said, "Sorry to interrupt, your ah...interaction, but I believe Georgiana is coming to steal you away, Miss Elizabeth."

_How did the Colonel know who she was?_ Elizabeth thought absently. Her musings were interrupted by Georgiana coming down the hallway with a happy grin on her face.

"Brother, I see you have met my friend. Richard! You will stay for tea, won't you?"

Mr Darcy turned to his sister, reluctantly tearing his gaze from Elizabeth's face. "No, we have not been properly introduced, Georgiana. Would you please do the honors?"

Georgiana beamed. "Of course. It would be my pleasure." Turning to her brother, she said, "Brother, may I present, Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn, Hertfordshire. Miss Elizabeth, may I present my brother, Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire."

Elizabeth curtsied as gracefully as she could upon unsteady legs. Mr Darcy bowed and as he stood, he gently took her hand to bestow a feather light kiss, imperceptibly brushing his thumb across her hand. He raised his eyes to meet her startled gaze. Elizabeth suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

"It is a pleasure to _finally_ make your acquaintance, Miss Elizabeth."

"Likewise, Mr Darcy." Elizabeth smiled, trying to steady her breathing.

"Well, now that introductions are over, I am going to take Miss Elizabeth..."

Richard interrupted his cousin, "Just a moment, Georgiana. Would you please introduce me to your friend as well?"

Georgiana stared at Richard. "I thought you were already acquainted?"

Richard shook his head. "Sadly, no. I have not had that pleasure." Turning to Elizabeth he said, with a sly look directed towards Darcy. "Although I feel that I already know you." At Darcy's startled look, he added, "My mother talks of you often." Richard grinned at Darcy and gave him a wink.

"Very well. Miss Elizabeth, may I present my cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. Cousin, may I present, Miss Elizabeth Bennet." Elizabeth curtsied as the Colonel offered a very proper bow. Introductions completed, Georgiana turned to her brother, and with a shooing motion, said, "Now, go with Richard while I take Miss Elizabeth on a tour. We have important things to discuss." Not waiting for a response, Georgiana took a slightly dazed Elizabeth by the arm and steered her towards the stairs.

Darcy gazed after Elizabeth with an euphoric look on his face. _She was here. In his home._

"You heard her, Darcy. We're banished from the ladies. Come." In much the same manner as Georgiana, Richard took his dazed cousin by the arm and steered him back to his study.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Darcy entered his study in a contented daze. As soon as the door to his study was shut, Richard turned, took one look at Darcy's face and burst out laughing.

Richard's laughter did not faze Darcy and he said with humble gratitude, "Richard, I owe you. Name your price, and I will gladly pay it."

Richard rubbed his chin thoughtfully. What would he ask for? Thinking back to the interaction between Darcy and the lovely Miss Elizabeth, he was struck with a brilliant idea. "I was happy to be of service to you, cousin. It is payment enough to see such a smile on your face."

"Please, Richard. There must be something I can do for you. You know I worry about you and the dangers you face in your profession. Let me give you one of my small estates. You could sell out..."

"Darcy!" Richard looked at his cousin, aghast. "I could never ask such a thing of you."

"I am offering it Richard. Please. Do it for your mother and Georgiana's peace of mind."

Richard shook his head. "I thank you cousin, but no. I have my pride and self-respect. Besides, I enjoy my profession. It's not so bad, if a little boring working in the War Office. I am safe enough. Thank you for your generous offer. But my answer is no."

"Very well. But the offer still stands."

Richard nodded his head. "I would like to stay here at Darcy house. If that is alright with you?"

Darcy looked at his cousin in confusion. "Of course, Richard, you are always welcome to stay. Georgiana will be pleased." Darcy hesitated, before adding, "Is everything alright at Matlock House?"

"Yes, no problem on the home front. I just think it would be...interesting to stay here for the foreseeable future." Richard grinned.

Raising his brows, Darcy said, "Oh? And why is that?"

"Isn't it obvious? I want to witness firsthand the illustrious Mr Darcy fall in love."

Darcy looked at his cousin in astonishment. "What?"

Richard laughed. "Oh come now, Darcy. You're half in love with her already. I just want to be here to watch the show. I have a feeling it will be very...interesting."

Darcy rubbed his forehead, "Yes, you've said that, twice."

"I meant it. Besides, I couldn't leave you in your hour of need, now, could I?"

"What do you mean? My hour of need? I have found her, Richard! My wait is finally, over." Darcy exhaled and closed his eyes, smiling with satisfaction. His mind drifted to thoughts of Elizabeth. Maybe he could join them on the tour?

Richard laughed and shook his head. Oh his poor, delusional cousin. He had no idea. "Darcy, you have found Miss Elizabeth. But what exactly are you going to do to win her?"

That snapped Darcy back to the present. "Win her? What do you mean, win her? She's already mine."

"What do I mean?" Richard looked at his clueless cousin. Carefully, he said, "Darcy, women are...temperamental creatures. You have to tread carefully, or you will be burned."

Darcy burst out laughing. "Don't be ridiculous, cousin. Elizabeth is a rational woman, I am sure. Besides, what woman would not want to be married to the 'illustrious' Mr Darcy?"

Richard shook his head in exasperation. He had to make his cousin understand, or it could prove to be messy and far more complicated than it needed to be. "Darcy, listen to me. You are going forward with the knowledge that she is your perfect match, correct?" At Darcy's nod, he continued, "But she doesn't know that! You need to show Miss Elizabeth that you are _her_ perfect match, as well." Richard looked at Darcy to determine if what he was saying was penetrating his cousins thick skull. "You need to make yourself worthy of her, cousin."

Darcy was silent as he mulled over his cousin's words. It was true, he hadn't given much thought to how he would win her, just that he would. His whole focus had been on finding her. He thought that would be the hardest obstacle to overcome. He was wrong, finding her had been the easy part. She had literally fallen into his arms, twice. Now, it was up to him to make sure she stayed there. And more importantly, that she wanted to.

"You are absolutely right, Richard. I know she is perfect for me. I want her to know that I am perfect for her."

Richard smiled in satisfaction. Now for the more difficult part. "Tell me, what do you know about her?"

Darcy looked at his cousin, confusion evident in his eyes. What did he know about Elizabeth? "I...well..." Darcy ran his hands through his hair. "She has a sister, she resides in Hertfordshire, she is beautiful..."

"Stop! Let me rephrase that question. What do you know about her interests? What is she passionate about? What makes her laugh, cry?"

Darcy looked blankly at his cousin. "Nothing. I know nothing."

"Then find out."

"It's that simple?"

"Yes. It's that simple." With a mischievous look, he added, "Although those intense gazes of yours will definitely go a long way to securing your lady love as well."

Darcy raised his brows, "My intense gazes?"

Richard rolled his eyes. "Darcy, you look at Miss Elizabeth like a starving man facing his last meal. Hungry and ecstatic."

"Did you just compare how I look at Elizabeth to food?"

"I'm a man, Darcy. Food is everything."

Darcy smiled and shook his head. "You're hopeless, cousin."

Richard grinned. "Why do you think I want to stay at Darcy House? Your cook is superb!"

Darcy laughed and turned to leave. "Well, we better join the ladies, don't you think?"

Richard followed with a wide grin on his face. Yes, this would be very interesting. He couldn't wait. Richard stopped suddenly as he made a startling discovery. "Darcy, did you know that Georgiana was friends with Miss Elizabeth?"

"I knew that she was acquainted with the nieces of Mrs Gardiner. She met them last Autumn when she was staying at Matlock House."

Richard stared at Darcy. "So...if you had taken Georgiana into your confidence and shown her the picture of Miss Elizabeth..." Richard trailed off, looking at Darcy with a cross between amusement and exasperation.

Darcy groaned, running his hands through his hair. "I could have met her six months ago!"

"Cheer up, Darcy! You may have wasted six months, but she's here now. Make the most of it! Oh, and Darcy? Tell Georgiana. She may be young, but she wants your happiness more than anything. Besides, you'll want a woman on your side as you woo your lady love." With a laugh, Richard added, "And my mother..."

Darcy held up his hand and said, "Enough! You are right, I should have told Georgiana long ago. I just didn't want to bring up our mother, afraid it would bring up too many painful memories."

"For her? Or, for you?" Richard gently asked. Not waiting for Darcy to respond, he left the study to join the ladies.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Elizabeth allowed Georgiana to lead her away from her brother and cousin. In fact, Elizabeth was grateful for the support of her friend's arm as her legs still felt rather unsteady. What had just happened? The brief interaction with Mr Darcy had left her mind so befuddled she couldn't think clearly. She thought she would have more time to compose herself to meet him again. Instead, she had unexpectedly run into him, literally. And she had almost fallen. Again. And he had caught her. Again. She groaned in dismay and embarrassment at her clumsiness. What must he think of her, constantly throwing herself in his arms?

"Are you alright, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Y-Yes. I am well." Elizabeth forced herself to focus on Miss Darcy. She was her guest, not her brother's.

Georgiana smiled, oblivious to her friend's inner turmoil. "I thought I would start with the picture gallery on the third floor and work our way down. We don't have time to go through the entire house, but you will be able to see a good portion."

Elizabeth smiled, looking forward to the distraction from thoughts of Miss Darcy's disarming brother. "I look forward to seeing your home, Miss Darcy."

Georgiana led Elizabeth to a long corridor that spanned the length of the house. The walls were filled with portraits and various landscapes. Elizabeth walked down the corridor in awe. "It is beautiful. Are all these members of your family?"

"Yes. Fitzwilliam could tell you the name and history of every single one. I know many of them, but not all."

"You have a very beautiful home, Miss Darcy."

Georgiana smiled. "Thank you, Miss Elizabeth. Of course, it is nothing to Pemberley. I hope one day you will be able to see our home in Derbyshire, Miss Elizabeth. I may be biased, but I believe there is nothing quite like it anywhere in England."

"Tell me about it." Elizabeth was eager to know about Mr-Miss Darcy's home. _Stop it, Elizabeth! Focus!_Elizabeth listened attentively as Miss Darcy described the estate in detail. She asked many questions about the grounds and surrounding woods, captivated by Miss Darcy's account. "It sounds like paradise, Miss Darcy. You must feel very blessed to have grown up in such a place."

"It is. I do."

Noticing a sad, distant expression on her friend's face, she hesitantly asked, "Are you well, Miss Darcy?" At Georgiana's startled gaze, she said, "You seem sad just now. I hope I didn't say anything to offend you."

"Oh no! You didn't. I just...I was remembering my parents. That is all."

Gently, Elizabeth asked, "You have lost both your parents?"

"Yes. My mother died when I was four. I don't remember much about her. I wish I did." Georgiana's voice was filled with sadness and regret. She took a deep breath, and continued. " My father died six years later when I was ten."

"How old was your brother?"

"Fitzwilliam was sixteen when Mother died and two and twenty when Father passed."

"So young," murmured Elizabeth. She wondered if the death of his parents was the cause of the sadness she sensed in him. She couldn't imagine losing one parent, let alone both.

Georgiana stopped and pointed to the portraits hanging above them. "There is my mother and my father."

Elizabeth gazed at the parents of Miss Darcy. She immediately noticed that Miss Darcy looked extraordinarily like her mother, and she said so.

"Yes, I suppose I do."

Elizabeth heard the sadness in Miss Darcy's voice, and decided to divert her attention away. "Your brother looks very much like your father. Except for the eyes." Elizabeth blushed slightly as she thought of Mr Darcy's intense blue eyes.

Georgiana smiled. "Yes. He is a lot like him in manner as well."

"How so?" Elizabeth asked nonchalantly.

Georgiana looked at Elizabeth with a mischievous grin. "Why Miss Elizabeth, are you fishing for information about my brother?"

Elizabeth look horrified. "No! Of course not. I am sorry, Miss Darcy, I don't mean to pry."

Georgiana laughed. "I am only teasing you, Miss Elizabeth." Walking a short distance, she pointed and with a playful grin, said, "Here is the portrait of my brother. A portrait of when he is older hangs at Pemberley, but I have always preferred this one."

Elizabeth gazed at a portrait of a young Mr Darcy. She guessed he was around fifteen or sixteen years of age. She studied his features, trying to see the man he would become in the lines and curves of his youthful face. His hair appeared darker in his portrait than in real life. But what struck her the most were his eyes. His eyes were carefree and happy. There was no evidence of the burden he would soon carry. She wondered when the portrait had been painted.

As if reading her mind, Georgiana said, "This portrait was painted six month before Mother passed away. It was a gift for her birthday. Mine was done as well. She pointed to her portrait hanging next to her brothers. "I remember the day I sat for this. I made the artist so angry! " Georgiana laughed as she remembered. "I would not sit still long enough for him to sketch my position. Mother had to come and sit and read with me so he could work." Georgiana smiled wistfully. "That is the clearest memory I have of her."

"She must have loved you very much."

"I suppose so."

"What do you mean? Of course she loved you!"

Georgiana shrugged her shoulders. "I feel that she loved me. The memories that I remember, I am happy."

"But I'm sure your brother talks of her often?"

Georgiana looked at Elizabeth and gravely shook her head. "Brother never speaks about Mother."

Elizabeth was surprised. Why would Mr Darcy not share with his sister memories of their Mother?

"You are surprised, Miss Elizabeth. But you have to understand, Fitzwilliam is a very private man. He doesn't share his feelings with anyone, not even Richard."

"But you have other family members that could tell you about your mother? Surely they talk about her?"

"Aunt Eleanor did not know my Mother well. Due to Mother's frail health, she was not in company often. She met her on a few occasions, but they were never close. My Uncle does not speak of her. My cousins, Richard and Hugh have a few memories that they have willingly shared. And Aunt Catherine...well, I am afraid of her, so I haven't asked."

"I am sorry, Miss Darcy." Elizabeth's heart went out to the poor girl. She obviously was still in pain over the death of her mother and she had no one she could confide in. She felt a spark of anger towards Mr Darcy. Could he not see his silence was causing his sister pain?

Georgiana smiled and with forced cheerfulness suggested they continue with the tour.

Sometime later, Elizabeth and Georgiana entered the Drawing Room for tea. They were alone. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief. She needed to get her bearings and gain her composure before Mr Darcy arrived.

Sitting down on the sofa, Elizabeth asked Georgiana about her music. Georgiana's face brightened with animation as she talked about what she was learning. "Brother and I are learning a duet. Hopefully we will have it ready to perform the next time you are here."

"Mr Darcy plays the pianoforte?" Elizabeth was surprised. She did not know many men who were accomplished enough on an instrument to perform. She was becoming more and more intrigued by the mysterious Mr Darcy.

"Oh yes! He is very good. He was my first teacher, you know. Unfortunately he doesn't play for anyone."

"How did you get him to play a duet with you?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

With a sly look, Georgiana simply said, "Punishment."

Elizabeth raised her brow in amusement, "For what?"

Georgiana laughed, "For causing me worry." At Elizabeth's confused expression, she said, "Remember what I told you at the bookstore? That Fitzwilliam has been very down lately?" At Elizabeth's nod, she continued, "That is why. His behavior caused me some alarm and after he apologized he asked how he could make it up to me." Georgiana smiled triumphantly, "So I asked for something I knew would be uncomfortable for him." Georgiana laughed. "But secretly, I think he was pleased. He hasn't complained once."

Changing the subject, Georgiana said, "You still have to tell me about your first ball, Miss Elizabeth. Don't think I've forgotten." Georgiana laughed at Elizabeth's expression. "Oh, it couldn't have been that bad! Brother attended and he _never_ attends society events during the season."

Another piece to the puzzle that is Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy, Elizabeth mused. Elizabeth proceeded to describe her evening, leaving out no details about her various partners and her observations about the guests.

Georgiana laughed delightedly at Elizabeth's humorous account. "Thank you, Miss Elizabeth. I needed that."

"No, thank _you_, Miss Darcy. You're right, I did enjoy myself. How could I not when there is such an abundance of the ridiculous to keep one amused." Elizabeth drolly added, "especially in a London ballroom!"

Georgiana laughed and leaning forward in anticipation asked, "Did no one catch your eye, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth blushed and looking down, subtly cleared her throat. _What should she say?_

Noticing her friend's unease, she quickly said, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, Miss Elizabeth. Please forgive me for prying." Georgiana smiled apologetically.

Elizabeth smiled, relieved. She didn't feel up to describing what happened between Miss Darcy's brother and herself. She was not that brave, or that foolish. Before Elizabeth could respond to Georgiana, a maid entered with the tea service followed by Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Darcy. Elizabeth took a deep breath. She could do this. He was just a man after all, she had talked with them before. _But not like him,_ she thought.

Elizabeth held her breath, half anticipation, half dread as the Colonel and Mr Darcy came towards them. Mr Darcy took the chair nearest her position on the sofa, while the Colonel occupied the one nearest Georgiana. Georgiana immediately began acting as hostess and busied herself with the tea. Elizabeth's attention was directed to Mr Darcy as he cleared his throat. Elizabeth let out her breath and straightening her spine, turned slightly to address him.

Before she could utter a word, Mr Darcy said, "I hope you enjoyed your tour, Miss Elizabeth?"

"I did. Thank you, Mr Darcy."

"Pardon me," Georgiana spoke diverting Elizabeth's attention away from her brother, "How do you take your tea, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Just lemon, please."

"Just like Fitzwilliam!"

Georgiana's innocent statement caused both Elizabeth and Darcy to flush. The Colonel coughed lightly to hide his amusement.

As Elizabeth and Darcy were handed their identically prepared tea, Darcy turned to Elizabeth intent on finding out her interests, as his cousin suggested. "Did you see anything of particular interest on the tour?"

"There were many things I found of interest." Elizabeth smiled. _No sense it making it too easy for him. __He thinks I am mindless, after all._Elizabeth was vaguely aware of the Colonel observing their interaction with interest while talking quietly with Georgiana.

Darcy frowned slightly. Elizabeth was not being very forthcoming with this particular line of questioning. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "I understand you are staying with your Aunt, Mrs Gardiner?"

"Yes."

"For the Season?"

"Yes."

"I understand your sister is in London as well?"

"Yes."

"Is Miss Bennet recovering from her fall the other night?"

"She is, Thank you."

Darcy was beginning to become frustrated. He would have to change his strategy. Shifting slightly in his seat, he turned more fully to face Elizabeth. Leaning forward slightly, he gazed directly in her eyes. "I hope you are enjoying your stay in London so far, Miss Elizabeth."

Darcy smiled slightly in triumph as Elizabeth's breath caught slightly as his gaze met her stunned brown eyes.

"Y-Yes, I am." Elizabeth breathlessly responded. She couldn't hold his piercing gaze and looked down to gather herself. Taking a steadying breath, she looked up and met his intense blue gaze. Raising one brow, she smiled, and waited.

Darcy shook his head in amusement and exasperation, "Do you always converse in such a succinct way, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Brevity is the soul of wit (1), Mr Darcy." With a mischievous grin, she added, "Besides, doesn't a man, such as yourself prefer a demure, quiet woman to one who blathers on and on about mundane things such as fashion and gossip?"

Darcy frowned as he stared at Elizabeth. Where did that come from? It sounded familiar...With shock, Darcy realized those were _his_ words. He had been speaking to Richard of Georgiana's friend and...No! Darcy's eyes widened slightly as he realized Elizabeth must have overheard part of his conversation, and thought he was talking about her! Groaning quietly, Darcy searched for a way to make this right.

"You overheard our conversation." Darcy stated.

"I did." Elizabeth responded hesitantly.

"You eavesdropped." Darcy clarified.

Elizabeth flushed but didn't look away from his unwavering stare. "I was waiting for Miss Darcy in the library, and the connecting door was ajar, and I heard you talking..." Elizabeth's voice trailed off. She knew she should not have lingered when she realized she was hearing a private conversation. But she was glad she did. If that is what he truly thought of her, it was better to know now.

"How much did you hear?" Darcy was anxious to know if she had heard Richard telling him about her.

"That was the only part of your conversation that I heard. I realized I should not have listened and retreated to the opposite side of the room."

Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. He was not ready to explain to Elizabeth why Richard referred to her as 'his lady love.'

"I say, Darcy. Are you interrogating our lovely Miss Elizabeth?" Richard raised his brows and slightly shook his head, as if disappointed.

"For shame, brother!" Georgiana had been observing her friend become increasingly discomposed and realized it had to do with whatever her brother was talking about. "What a way to treat our guest," Georgiana admonished her brother.

Darcy exhaled loudly. He looked at Elizabeth and was surprised to see a mischievous smile gracing her lips, and one delicate brow raised in the manner he was quickly coming to recognize meant she was vastly amused about something. Him, no doubt. _What was she playing at?_

With a teasing smile directed at Darcy, Elizabeth turned to Georgiana. "Miss Darcy, do you remember the book I recommended to you when we met at the book store?

Georgiana looked at Elizabeth in surprise. "The first book? Or the one I ended up buying?"

"The first book."

Darcy interjected, and turning to Georgiana, asked, "When was this? What were you doing at the book store?"

Elizabeth smiled, ignoring Darcy's untimely interruption. "Would you agree that it would have been appropriate to purchase it, especially in light of a certain someone's behavior?" Elizabeth nodded her head discreetly in Darcy's direction.

Georgiana looked bewildered until she recalled which book Elizabeth was referring to. Trying unsuccessfully to contain her laughter, she gasped, "Yes, under the circumstances, Miss Elizabeth I should have deferred to your superior judgment. I'll have to go back and purchase it." At this Georgiana dissolved into laughter.

Darcy looked over at Richard to determine if he was as confused by the unexpected turn of the conversation. Richard was rubbing his fingers over his lips in a vain attempt to avoid laughing. As he noticed his cousin's gaze, he simply winked and smirked. Darcy shook his head, he would get no support in that quarter.

Georgiana leaned in and whispered something in Richard's ear which caused him to guffaw loudly, slapping his knee in delight.

Frustrated, Darcy turned to Elizabeth and calmly asked, "What book is Georgiana referring to Miss Elizabeth?"

"I was referring to a book I recommended to Miss Darcy when we met at Hatchard's earlier this week. She was..." Elizabeth stopped, not wanting to ruin Georgiana's surprise for her brother. Looking at Georgiana, she raised her brow, silently asking permission to proceed. Georgiana was still trying to control her laughter and waved for Elizabeth to carry on.

"She was there looking for a book for your upcoming birthday. I offered to help her find one that was suitable. Apparently you are very difficult to buy for, Mr Darcy."

Darcy smiled in satisfaction. She had chosen a book for his birthday? What book had she chosen? "What book are you referring to that has caused my sister and cousin to act like a bunch of hyenas?"

Elizabeth smiled and serenely replied, "_The Gentleman's Book of Etiquette: Rules for Perfect Conduct."_

At this, Richard and Georgiana burst out in renewed fits of laughter. Turning to them, Darcy said sarcastically, "I am glad I can be a source of amusement." Darcy didn't know if he should be offended or amused.

Turning to Elizabeth, he asked, "And you think I would benefit from such a book?"

"Well, let's see. First, you made some cutting remarks about me. Second, you began to question me about my...er..eavesdropping. And third, you interrupted a ladies conversation. So I would have to say: Yes, you would benefit from such a book."

Darcy would have been offended if he hadn't detected a distinctive playful gleam in Elizabeth's eyes. She was teasing him, baiting him. And he realized that he liked it. _The little minx!__Well, two can play at this game. _"What would you suggest then, Miss Elizabeth? Read it, study it, make it a daily source of study?"

"Hmm..." Elizabeth tapped her finger on her lips. "I don't know if there is hope of rehabilitation for you, Mr Darcy; your behavior may be fixed." Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know you well enough to determine if you are a lost cause."

Darcy lowered his voice and leaning slightly towards Elizabeth, said, "I would be happy to give you ample opportunity to study my behavior, Miss Elizabeth."

"Ah, but Mr Darcy, would you be willing to spend time with a greedy, mindless woman who has nothing of sense to say except mundane things, like fashion and gossip?"

Darcy groaned. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his forehead in agitation. Why hadn't he shut the connecting door? This could all have been avoided. Looking up, he met Elizabeth's open and expectant gaze. She was hoping, waiting for him to make amends. And he would.

Holding her gaze, he said remorsefully, "I am sorry that you heard something that offended you. Believe me, I was not referring to you when I made that statement. I was referring of the majority of women I have had the misfortune to come in contact with. You are not like them, Miss Elizabeth."

"How do you know I am different, Mr Darcy?" Elizabeth was anxious for his answer. What reason would he give? Did he really think she was different? Why did she care?

Darcy gazed steadily at Elizabeth, and simply said, "I know." Darcy held her gaze, forcing her to see the truth of what he said in his eyes.

Elizabeth sat motionless under the intense gaze of Mr Darcy. She was vaguely aware of her increased heart beat and unsteady breathing. Why did he have such an effect on her ability to think rationally? Mentally shaking her head to clear her befuddled mind, she cocked her head, and raising one brow said, "I changed my mind Mr Darcy. I believe you have not only read,_The Gentleman's Book of Etiquette: Rules for Perfect Conduct,_ but you own it as well!"

A/N: Well, there you have it! I have finally put an end to your suspense, now put an end to mine-tell me what you think, please? What did you think of their first interaction? Did it meet your expectations? Who came out the victor? What do you think about Darcy finally telling Georgiana about the drawing of Elizabeth?

(1) Hamlet, Act II, Scene II. "Brevity is the soul of wit" - means keeping your comments brief is the essence of intelligence.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 8

Elizabeth did not recall anything from her return journey to her Aunt Gardiners. She vaguely remembered taking her leave of Miss Darcy and the Colonel. Mr Darcy had accompanied her outside, handing her into her Uncle's carriage, with a simple farewell and a lingering look that spoke more eloquently than a Shakespeare Sonnet. It was that lingering parting gaze that kept Elizabeth occupied the entire journey home. She needed Jane to help her make sense of it all. She laughed to herself as she recalled her words during their journey to London. 'What could possibly happen in two months?' What could happen, indeed. In less than one week her entire world had been turned on its head. And it was all due to a certain, enigmatic gentleman from Derbyshire.

Elizabeth breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the carriage stopped in front of the well appointed Townhouse of her Uncle. She descended the carriage and quickly made her way up to the door. The efficient butler opened the door as she reached the top step. "Thank you Simmons."

"My pleasure, Miss Elizabeth. You will find the mistress in the Drawing Room."

"And my sister?" Elizabeth was eager to talk with Jane.

"She is also in the Drawing Room."

Surprised Jane was out of bed, she hurriedly removed her outerwear and went to join her Aunt and sister. As Elizabeth neared the door she could hear her Aunt talking, "...nice of Sir Reginald to pay us a visit. Such a kind and charming young man." Jane responded, but couldn't make out her sister's quiet voice.

As Elizabeth entered, her Aunt exclaimed, "We had almost despaired of you! We thought you must have gotten lost!"

Elizabeth kissed her Aunt's cheek. "Not lost, Aunt. Miss Darcy and I had a good visit. I apologize for making you worry."

"Not at all, Lizzy. I was merely teasing. I was just commenting to Jane that it was a pity both of you were not available for Sir Reginald's visit earlier this afternoon."

Elizabeth turned to her sister in concern, "Are you sure you should be up so soon?"

"I am well Lizzy; my ankle is fine if I keep it elevated, and I needed a change of scenery."

Elizabeth turned to her Aunt. "Sir Reginald paid a visit? I was sorry to have missed it."

"Not as sorry as he was, I am sure." Aunt Gardiner laughed merrily, with a knowing nod in Elizabeth's direction.

Elizabeth blushed. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Aunt."

"Don't be coy, Lizzy. You know exactly what I mean. I know you are not blind to the attention that gentleman paid you at his ball the other night. Or what it means for him to call so soon after."

"I'm sure he merely came to inquire after Jane. She did injure herself at his ball." Elizabeth was not going to concede to her Aunt's suggestion that Mr Lynton felt anything beyond solicitous concern for her sister's welfare.

Her Aunt shook her head in amusement. "If that were the case Lizzy, he would not have spent the entire quarter hour asking about you!" She said with a triumphant smile.

Elizabeth didn't know how to take her Aunt's report of Mr Lynton coming to see her. If she were being perfectly honest with herself, she felt a certain gratification that a gentleman of his station would condescend to pay attention to _her_. She had enjoyed his attentions at the ball. She found him all that a gentleman should be: kind, intelligent, handsome, and exceedingly charming. And despite his high status in life, he had a certain air of humility that she had found extremely attractive. She would have felt herself to be in some danger if she hadn't met him. _Mr Darcy._ Even now, thinking about Mr Lynton, she couldn't help but compare the two gentleman, and Mr Lynton came up wanting.

Seeing the conflicted look on the face of her niece, Mrs Gardiner quickly said, "I don't mean to distress you, Lizzy. I won't say another word about it if you don't want me to."

Elizabeth smiled reassuringly at her Aunt. "No, I am not distressed, Aunt." Seeing her Aunt's skeptical look, she reiterated, "Truly. I am not."

Her Aunt was not fully convinced, but Elizabeth knew she would not pry further.

"Is there someone else that has caught your eye, Lizzy?"

Her Aunt's unexpected question caused Elizabeth to start, jerking her head up, she exclaimed, "What? No, no, of course not."

Jane stifled a giggle and her Aunt's brow rose in amusement. "Hmmm..." Leaning towards Jane she lowered her voice and said, "Methinks the Lady doth protest too much." (1)

Jane looked at her sister to ascertain her frame of mind. She could tell the moment Elizabeth entered in an unusually subdued manner that she was mulling over something that was causing her some confusion. She knew it likely had to do with her sister's mystery gentleman, but she didn't know what could have transpired between this morning and tea with Miss Darcy. She would just have to wait until they were alone to discover what was weighing on her sister's mind...and heart.

Her Aunt stood up and walked over to sit besides Elizabeth on the sofa. Taking her hand, she gently said, "Lizzy, I do not want to force a confidence. But I want you to know that I am here to help you in whatever capacity you desire."

Her Aunt's sincere words caused Elizabeth to burst out, "I am so confused, Aunt!"

"Why, whatever has happened?" Mrs Gardiner could not believe that something so distressing could have occurred in so short a time.

Elizabeth looked at her Aunt beseechingly, "I will tell you all. Indeed, Jane knows most of it. I could do with some motherly advice and I trust you, Aunt."

Mrs Gardiners eyes glimmered with unshed tears. How Mrs Bennet could treat this dear girl so disdainfully was beyond her realm of comprehension. "I will do whatever I can to help you, Lizzy. Please believe that. Now, tell me what is burdening your heart."

Elizabeth took a deep breath and began. She told her Aunt everything, starting with the conversation she had with Jane prior to the ball and ending with the conversation she had with Jane the night of the ball and the morning after.

During the recitation, her Aunt remained quiet, listening attentively. She gave no outward indication of her emotions during Elizabeth's tale, except once. A raised brow and a small smile graced her lips at Elizabeth's physical description of the mystery gentleman.

When Elizabeth finished, she looked at her Aunt with a nervous smile. "Am I being nonsensical, Aunt?"

"What do you think, Lizzy?

Elizabeth took a deep breath and shook her head. "No, I don't think I am. But I have never experienced anything like this before. I have nothing to compare it to."

"That's because it is different for everyone."

"What is different?" Elizabeth looked at her Aunt in bewilderment.

"Why, falling in love, of course."

Elizabeth stared at her Aunt in shock. "I am not in love!"

Her Aunt raised her brows in amusement. "No? Well, perhaps not." _Yet_, she added silently.

Jane interjected. "How can she be in love with a man she has never even talked to?"

Her Aunt laughed. "How indeed?" Mrs Gardiner looked at Elizabeth with amusement, a playful gleam in her eyes. "I am guessing that is part of your confusion, Lizzy. Your interaction today with the gentleman has left you out of sorts. Am I correct?"

Jane gasped. "What do you mean, Aunt."

Mrs Gardiner simply looked at Elizabeth with a knowing look.

Elizabeth sputtered, "how did you know?"

Her Aunt laughed delightfully. "My dear niece. I recognized your gentleman the moment you described him. You forget, I have met him on several occasions. Even if he were not the nephew of my dearest friend, I would have known who he was by your description alone. Mr Darcy is a singular gentleman."

"Mr Darcy?" Jane exclaimed, incredulously. Jane turned to Elizabeth. "Lizzy, was he there when you visited Miss Darcy?"

"Yes, he was there." Elizabeth stated simply. "I was completely unprepared. I am afraid I did not make a favorable first impression."

Her Aunt kindly inquired, "Tell us what happened."

When she finished describing her entire afternoon, her Aunt burst out laughing. "Well done, Lizzy! He will not soon underestimate you! Yes, well done, indeed!"

Elizabeth looked at her Aunt in disbelief. "How can you say that, Aunt? I eavesdropped on a private conversation, ran into him, insulted and teased him! How is that worthy of your approbation?"

"Lizzy, you gave him a memorable, and I would say unforgettable first impression. He will not soon forget you!"

Elizabeth huffed in exasperation. "I'm not so sure of that, Aunt."

"I think our Aunt is right, Lizzy. It sounded like you were your delightful self. If he doesn't appreciate your wit and teasing, then he is not the man for you." Jane smiled in satisfaction at her sister.

"Now that we are properly introduced, we can remain indifferent and impartial acquaintances." Elizabeth said unconvincingly.

"We'll see." Her Aunt smiled smugly.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Darcy was unusually nervous. He was currently pacing outside his sister's bedroom door trying to find the courage to speak to her. How could he be nervous talking to his sister? If Richard could see him now, he would never let him hear the end of it. Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders, gripping the package in his hand and knocked firmly on the door.

"Come in!" Georgiana's sweet voice called out.

Darcy smiled. All would be well. He entered and paused at the threshold. His sister was curled up in the window seat, a book lying forgotten at her feet.

Georgiana looked up at him and smiled brightly, eyeing the package he held with curiosity. Noticing her brother's subdued expression, her smile faded and her cheerful greeting died in her throat. "Brother? Is something troubling you?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yes. No." Darcy shifted from one foot to the other. He took a deep breath and walked quickly to his sister. "We need to talk."

Georgiana, her eyes wide with uncertainty, said, "Alright."

Darcy motioned to his sister's sitting room. "Let's go in here. It will be more comfortable."

Georgiana walked to her sitting room and tentatively took a seat. She had a feeling she knew what this was about. Her deplorable behavior that afternoon! She didn't like it when her brother was disappointed in her. She fidgeted nervously with the folds of her dress, smoothing out invisible wrinkles.

Darcy followed his sister but didn't take a seat. He gently placed his package on a nearby table and began pacing in front of the fireplace, pausing occasionally to run a hand through his hair.

Georgiana watched her brother with growing alarm. She decided to quickly apologize before he spoke. Taking a deep breath, Georgiana said quietly, "I am sorry if you are disappointed in me, brother."

Darcy turned to look at his sister in surprise. "Disappointed? What are you talking about, Georgiana?"

"My behavior this afternoon." In a flurry of words, she burst out, "I know I should not have mislead you about going to the bookstore, or laughed at you about the book. I know Miss Elizabeth didn't mean any harm, please say she can still be my friend!" Georgiana looked pleadingly at her brother.

Darcy stared in amazement at his sister. Did she really think he was angry? At her? How could she think he would disapprove of Miss Elizabeth? Darcy nearly laughed out loud at the thought. If only his sister knew...Yes, he needed to tell Georgiana. She would be overjoyed.

Taking a deep breath, he sat down and took his sister's hand and gently said, "Georgiana, I am not angry with you, nor do I disapprove of Miss Elizabeth." _Quite the opposite, in fact._

"What? You are not angry? Truly? But I should not have laughed at you!" Georgiana cried out.

"I didn't mind." In fact, Darcy generally did not like being made fun of, but since the cause of the laughter was Elizabeth...he found that he did not mind it when she teased him. It made her eyes dance with delight; lighting up her entire face with good humor and intelligence. The effect was quite...mesmerizing.

"Brother?" Georgiana did not know what to make of the peculiar expression on her brother's face. She had never seen him look like that.

Darcy focused on his sister. "No, I am not angry with you."

Georgiana giggled. "Yes, you said that already."

"I did? Oh, yes. I did." Darcy stood and began to pace again.

"You have something to talk to me about?" Georgiana prodded gently. Now that she knew she was not the cause of his subdued demeanor, she was curious what he wanted to talk to her about. Georgiana paused. She couldn't remember her brother ever coming to her like this. It must be important. She watched her normally confident, assured brother pace nervously in front of her.

Darcy ran his hands through his hair. _Just spit it out!_ Georgiana loves you, she'll understand. Before he knew what he was about he blurted out, "I'm going to marry Elizabeth." Darcy groaned. He closed his eyes, not daring to look at his sister. A weighted silence fell. Darcy finally turned to face Georgiana. She was staring at him, eyes wide in shock, mouth gaping open.

"Wh-what?" Georgiana stuttered.

"It's true. Elizabeth is meant to be mine."

"I don't understand. You, you like her?"

Georgiana's hopeful tone caused Darcy to sigh in relief. "Yes. Very much."

"But, what do you mean she is _meant _to be yours?"

"That is why I am here. What I have to tell you." Darcy gazed at his sister seriously. He didn't know where to begin. Despite Richard's assurances that Georgiana would be supportive, Darcy was unsure how his sister would react to his story. He went over to the table and took the package gently in both hands, holding it as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

Georgiana pointed to the package and said, "Does that explain what you just said, about Miss Elizabeth?"

Darcy smiled appreciatively at his sister. "Yes. It will explain my declaration." Darcy laid the package in his lap and carefully removed the cloth. He lifted out the framed drawing and gazed at it. Each time he looked at her picture caused his heart to beat erratically in his chest. Taking a deep breath, he wordlessly handed the drawing to his sister.

Georgiana took the picture carefully from her brother. She could tell by the way he handled it that it was important to him. She looked at the picture and immediately gasped. "Why, it's Miss Elizabeth!" Georgiana was astonished. How did her brother have a picture of Miss Elizabeth? "How? Why?"

"Look at the initials and the date in the bottom right corner."

Georgiana's gaze travelled to the correct location, which caused another gasp to escape. "Mother drew this? "she asked in disbelief. "How is this possible, Fitzwilliam?" She gazed steadily at her brother. "What does this mean?"

"What I am about to tell you I have told no one, save Richard."

"Not even father?"

"Especially not father," Darcy said darkly.

"I don't understand," Georgiana cried out.

"I will tell you. But please, you must promise me that you will not share what I am about to tell you with anyone. Promise me?" Darcy gazed steadily at his sister. He needed to know he could trust her.

Georgiana straightened up in her seat and said soberly, "I promise. I will tell no one."

Darcy took a deep breath and told his sister everything that his mother had shared with him nearly eleven years ago. It took quite some time. He stumbled through the part when he told his sister about his father. When he was done he simply sat and looked at his sister, waiting for her to break the growing silence.

Georgiana's mind was spinning. The principal thought running through her mind was how extraordinary it all was, closely followed by pure excitement. _Elizabeth__would be her sister!_ She looked at her brother, noted his anxious expression and simply said, "I believe you, brother."

Darcy smiled, in obvious relief. "Thank you, Georgiana. Please. Tell me what you are thinking."

"I am thinking of so many things, it is difficult to know where to begin!"

"I know the feeling." Darcy was relieved that his sister now knew the truth about Elizabeth. Richard was right, he should have told her long ago. "I am sorry that I haven't said anything until now."

Georgiana smiled and laughed. "Yes, I am sure you are. Especially in light of my acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth." Georgiana gave her brother a sly look. "To think I was writing to you of your future wife and you didn't even realize it!"

Darcy grimaced. "Richard said the same thing. I am slowly learning that it benefits no one if I keep everything to myself."

Georgiana burst out, "I am so glad it is Elizabeth! Truly, brother, she is wonderful." Georgiana grinned, and slyly said, "She asked after you several times during our tour of the house."

"Really? What did she say?" Darcy leaned forward eagerly, his eyes alight with avid curiosity.

Georgiana laughed merrily. "I'll tell you, but it will cost you."

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

It was decided that Elizabeth would remain home to sit with Jane instead of going to church services, as Jane's ankle was still too weak to be up for long periods of time without causing her pain. Elizabeth was secretly relieved. She needed some quiet time at home to reflect on all that had occurred during the week. She was glad that she had confided in her Aunt. She had always been an example to Elizabeth, a woman that she looked up to and trusted implicitly. She was grateful that she now had her Aunt's sound and reliable advice to lean on.

After her Aunt and Uncle left for church services, she left Jane to rest and wandered to the garden, walking purposefully to her favorite bench beneath the large oak tree. She pulled out the letters she had received the day before from her father and Mary. As she reread them both, she smiled in pleasure. It was good to hear from them. Except for a hastily scribbled note to her father the day after Lynton's ball, she hadn't written once. In fact, she hadn't thought much about home since being in London. As much as she loved her home, she had been quite content to leave it at that particular time; her mother's silence weighing heavy on her heart and her conscience. She sighed. She would have to remedy that today. She would write a letter to her mother, extend an olive branch. She could read it or not, but she would make the effort. Maybe if she was feeling particularly sisterly, she'd pen a note to Kitty and Lydia as well.

Later that morning, after writing her letters, Elizabeth went to find a book from her Uncle's well stocked library. Perusing the shelves, she thought back to the incident in the Darcy's library the day before. Just thinking about the impropriety of eavesdropping brought a blush to her cheeks. And then she had teased and laughed at him when he called her out on it! He was a new acquaintance and didn't know her teasing nature. She didn't think he had been offended, but she didn't know for sure. Elizabeth closed her eyes in mortification. What must he think of her? She didn't care what reassurances her Aunt and Jane gave her, it was very badly done. Hopefully, she would have an opportunity to ask his forgiveness for her impertinent behavior.

Focusing her attention on the task at hand, she perused the books with real intent. She needed something that would take her mind off of Mr Darcy. She quickly passed over Shakespeare's Tragedies. Too dramatic. Something that made her laugh would do the trick. As she scanned the rest of the shelf, she paused, a smile lighting her face. Perfect. Pulling _Much Ado About Nothing_ from the shelf, she went to her favorite chair and settled in.

Sometime later, she heard a commotion in the hall outside the library. Her Aunt and Uncle must be back, she thought absently. A few minutes later, a maid appeared requesting her presence in the Drawing Room.

Entering the room, she quickly took in the scene before her. Jane was serenely sitting on the sofa with her ankle propped, sewing. Her Uncle was pacing in front of the fire and her Aunt was sitting in her favorite chair with a very amused look on her face as she gazed at her husband.

"I don't care what you say, Marianne. It was very badly done. I don't know what you were thinking!" Uncle Gardiner's voice was a mixture of exasperation and forbearance.

Aunt Gardiner laughed. "Really, Edward. I don't know what all the fuss is about. I see no harm in what I did."

Uncle Gardiner leveled a look at his wife. "Let's see what our dear niece has to say."

Elizabeth went to sit next to her sister. She whispered, "What happened?"

Jane shook her head. "I have no idea. But whatever it is has made our normally good-natured Uncle quite angry."

Addressing her Uncle, Elizabeth said, "What has happened, Uncle?"

"Ask your Aunt." Mr Gardiner replied.

Elizabeth turned confused eyes to her Aunt. "Aunt, what is my Uncle so upset about?"

Mrs Gardiner smiled. "It is nothing that is worth all this fuss. It will all turn out, you'll see."

Elizabeth was more confused than ever. "What are you talking about? Please speak plainly, Aunt."

Her Aunt sighed and with a glance at her irate husband, said innocently, "I invited some people over for tea tomorrow, that is all."

Elizabeth raised a brow. "That's it?"

"Tell her Marianne, she has the right to know." Her Uncle began muttering under his breath about foolish females and something about meddling.

"After church services, your Uncle and I decided to go for a walk. It is such a beautiful day. While we were walking we came upon Mr Darcy and Miss Darcy. Of course, we stopped and greeted them."

At the mention of Mr Darcy, Elizabeth's heart starting beating faster. So her Aunt invited Mr Darcy and his sister to tea? She didn't see what all the fuss was about. She was going to extend an invitation to Miss Darcy for tea this week in any case. "That is all? You invited Mr Darcy and his sister to tea?"

Her Aunt cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. "Yes, I invited them to tea. They were pleased to accept." She smiled at Elizabeth. "Indeed, I don't know who was more delighted, Mr Darcy or his sister." She winked at Elizabeth.

"But why would my Uncle be upset for inviting Mr Darcy and his sister for tea?"

Her Aunt started fidgeting nervously. Elizabeth stared. What was going on? Her Aunt and Uncle were both behaving in a manner completely out of character.

"He's not upset that I invited Mr Darcy and his sister for tea. He's upset that I also extended an invitation to Sir Reginald for tea. At the same time."

Elizabeth stared at her Aunt in growing horror. She cried out, "What? Why would you do that, Aunt?"

"Lizzy, listen to me. It will be alright. A man needs to know he has a little competition; it always gets things moving in the right direction, you'll see."

Elizabeth looked at Jane disbelievingly. Her sister looked as shocked as she did. Elizabeth groaned. "I believe that I will be indisposed tomorrow."

"You'll do no such thing, Lizzy. All will be well. Trust me."

Her Aunt's reassurances did little to relieve Elizabeth's consternation. She was regretting her decision to tell her Aunt about Mr Darcy. What could she mean by it? Inviting two gentlemen who had shown an interest in her to tea at the same time? It could only end in one way. Disaster.

A/N: Oh boy! Lynton and Darcy in the same room with Elizabeth. What will happen? Tell me your thoughts. I have to admit I love a jealous Darcy :) Please review!

(1) Hamlet, Act III, Scene II


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I decided to post this early in immense gratitude for your awesome support of my story. Seriously, you guys are A.M.A.Z.I.N.G! Thank you so much to everyone who has followed and favorited (I know that's not a real word :) and especially reviewed! I live for your reviews! They make my day.

So with out further ado, I give you Chapter 9! Enjoy!

Chapter 9

Elizabeth paced back and forth in growing agitation. The more she thought about what her Aunt had done, the more anxious she became. Not for the first time, Elizabeth tried to make sense of _why_ her Aunt had invited both Mr Darcy and Sir Reginald to tea. How was it fair to either gentleman? Elizabeth was not one to trifle with a respectable gentleman's affections. She didn't want to give encouragement and false hope where there was none. She was afraid that by inviting Sir Reginald to tea, it would send the wrong message. She liked him, very much. But she was fairly certain she could never feel anything beyond friendship.

At the same time, she did not know either gentleman's intentions. Despite her woman's intuition that there _was_ some affection felt by both gentleman, she could be wrong. At this point in time she was not ready to commit to one gentleman over the other. Her heart was leaning in a certain direction, but it was too soon to tell. In the meantime, it would be a difficult balance; trying to appease both gentleman without raising the ire of either. She needed time to become better acquainted with both gentlemen. If only there was a way...

A soft knock, followed by Jane's quiet entreaty, "Can I come in, Lizzy?" penetrated her thoughts.

Jane? She should be resting! Elizabeth quickly went to the door, and upon opening it, said in admonishment, "Jane! You should not be up. Let me help you back to bed."

"Don't be silly, Lizzy. I am almost completely better. I will be dancing again in no time." Jane smiled and with a slight limp came into the bedroom. "I thought you could use a listening ear. You are still troubled over what our Aunt has done, are you not?

"You know me well, Jane. I anticipate receiving very little sleep tonight. At least if I have a headache tomorrow, I'll have an excuse not to be present."

"I know our Aunt means well, Lizzy. She is trying to help you in her own way, however unconventional her methods."

"I don't know what she hopes to achieve by this ridiculous situation. Using jealousy to _'help things along_?'" Elizabeth laughed with a slightly bitter edge. "I am not the sort of woman who would play such games to win someone's affections!"

"I know, Lizzy. But think. It would be beneficial to see how they react to each other. It is an effective method to determine if their affections are engaged."

"Or they will simply resolve that I am not worth it." Elizabeth said mulishly.

"Don't be ridiculous, Lizzy. I think it will take a lot more than the presence of another suitor to dissuade Mr Darcy."

"And Sir Reginald?"

"Do you really care what Sir Reginald thinks?"

"Of course I do! He is an honorable gentleman and deserves to be treated as such. Even if I do not believe I am interested in him romantically it does not mean I wish him ill." Elizabeth began pacing again as her agitation escalated.

Jane looked earnestly at her sister for a brief moment, before saying, "Lizzy, if you had to choose between Mr Darcy and Sir Reginald, who would it be?"

Elizabeth stared at Jane. "Well...I don't... I mean, I'm not..." Elizabeth sighed in exasperation and threw up her hands. "Jane! How can I answer that? I know very little about either gentleman. After furthering my acquaintance with them, I could determine that neither would suit me."

"Lizzy," Jane said gently, "you already know in your heart who you would choose. Don't you?" Jane looked affectionately at her sister.

Elizabeth took a deep breath. Yes, she did know. In fact, she had already admitted it to herself. She slowly nodded, "Yes, I do know. However, I am not willing to admit it until I am sure of where his heart lies. I could be mistaken, Jane. I only have one heart to give. I will not waste it on someone unworthy."

Jane smiled. "I would expect nothing less from you, Lizzy." With a sly smile, she said, "Are you sure that Mr Darcy is the object of your affections?"

"Yes. No. I don't know!" Elizabeth paused and looked at her sister in consternation. "That was very neatly done, Jane."

Jane laughed. "I think it helps to give voice to your thoughts, Lizzy. Especially in matters of the heart."

"I am still confused about my feelings for Mr Darcy, Jane. My heart is saying one thing, but my mind is saying another."

"What is needed to make your heart and mind agree?"

"Time." Elizabeth simply stated. "And the opportunity to become better acquainted."

"Well, then that is what you shall have," Jane said emphatically. "We have two months in London. That should give you ample opportunity to become better acquainted." With a slight laugh, she added, "starting with tea tomorrow."

Elizabeth made a face. "I don't know what to expect, but I know it will be interesting."

"All will be well, Lizzy. They are gentlemen. They aren't going to break out in fisticuffs in the middle of the drawing room!"

Elizabeth laughed. "No, I suppose not." With a mischievous smile she added, "Such a pity."

"Lizzy!" Jane dissolved into laughter. Composing herself, she got up and went to the door. "Try to get some sleep, Lizzy. Goodnight."

"Good night Jane. Thank you." With a parting smile, Jane left.

Elizabeth laid in bed, trying to quiet her mind so she could fall asleep. She was tempted to purposefully stay up so she could excuse herself from tea tomorrow, pleading a headache. But she was no coward. She sighed. At least Miss Darcy would be there. She could always focus her attention on her. Thoughts of Miss Darcy naturally led to thoughts of her brother. She would see him tomorrow...With that last thought, Elizabeth finally succumbed to sleep, a smile on her lips.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Elizabeth awoke the following morning to the unmistakable sound of rain. Going to the window, she gazed out at the rain drenched garden. She sighed. Hopefully this wasn't a omen of things to come. She laughed silently to herself. Quickly getting dressed, she left her room and made her way to the small dining room.

When she arrived, she saw the dining room was already occupied. Tensing slightly upon perceiving her Aunt, she stiffly said, "Good morning Aunt."

Her Aunt looked up and smiled a greeting, ignoring her nieces contrary behavior. "Good morning, Lizzy. Did you sleep well?"

"I did. Thank you." Elizabeth turned her back to her Aunt and helped herself to the food laid out. "You are up early," Elizabeth observed.

Her Aunt sighed. "Yes. I wanted to talk with you."

Elizabeth took a seat across from her Aunt. Raising a brow, she simply said, "Oh? What about?"

"Lizzy," her Aunt began, her voice slightly hesitant. "I am sorry that you are uncomfortable with the invitations I extended for tea today. I hope you know I have your best interests at heart. Please don't regret confiding in me yesterday. I just ask you to trust me. Please."

Elizabeth looked up from buttering her toast at her Aunt's earnest pleading. She sighed. "I am sorry, Aunt. I know I am being difficult. You have never led me wrong before. I just wish you would be more forthcoming with _why_ you are doing this."

Her Aunt smiled. "Lizzy, I do not know Sir Reginald well; he is new acquaintance. But I observed the two of you together at his ball. There was something there," as Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest, she added, "don't deny it, Lizzy. I have eyes."

Elizabeth huffed. "But that was before...before.."

Mrs Gardiner smiled, "Before you saw Mr Darcy. I know." Looking seriously at her niece, she said, "I believe you when you say there was an instant connection between the two of you. I know Mr Darcy. He is a very reserved and extremely private man. He is practically a recluse, living at Pemberley for most of the year. He has never attended any events of the _season_ before now. I know you, Lizzy. Your tempers are so dissimilar. I don't know if you would find happiness with such a man. But," Mrs Gardiner shrugged her shoulders, "I could be wrong. Until I see the two of you together, I won't know for sure. I just want you to be careful."

"Is there something I should know about Mr Darcy's character?" Elizabeth was fearful that there was something that would prevent her from forming an attachment. She had been so sure...

Seeing the slightly panicked look in her nieces eyes, she quickly reassured her "No, no. Mr Darcy is a true gentleman. He is completely honorable. But I admit I question his motives."

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth was starting to become distressed.

"Be calm, Lizzy. I merely meant to say that it is rather extraordinary, his sudden interest in you. For a man who has avoided the _ton_ since he entered society nearly ten years ago, it is rather unusual."

Elizabeth's distress was not relieved by her Aunt's reassurances. All her doubts came to the surface. Why would he be interested in her? Did he have some darker motive? No! She wouldn't believe it!

Noticing her nieces growing distress, Mrs Gardiner tried to sooth her fears. "Lizzy, he is a good man. Please don't make yourself distressed. Just follow your heart and all will work out for the best, you'll see."

Elizabeth nodded, her mind elsewhere. "Yes, you're right. Of course." Distractedly, Elizabeth got up from the table and wandered out of the room.

Mrs Gardiner watched her niece leave the dining room, her breakfast forgotten, her tea untouched. She sighed. Then straightened her back in determination. She would help her niece. If her heart was leaning towards Mr Darcy, then she would encourage it. With her decision made, she stood with purpose. She had work to do.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Elizabeth spent the morning aimlessly moving from one activity to another, desperately trying to keep her mind occupied. Unfortunately ,she was not able to concentrate on anything. She tried embroidering, but after the tenth time of having to unstitch her mistakes, she gave up. She tried to read, but her mind kept wandering, and she was unable to focus long enough to read a single sentence. Practicing the pianoforte was a disaster. Everything she played came out sounding like a dirge; solemn and heavy.

As morning rolled into afternoon, Elizabeth's agitation increased in proportion to the approaching time for the guests to arrive. Frustrated, she decided a walk would do her good. Fortunately, the morning rain had ceased hours before and the sun was shining brightly. It was a glorious day. If only she could truly enjoy it. The upcoming tea was hanging over her head like a storm cloud, dark and forbidding. Her stomach was a bundle of nerves and her mind kept jumping from one random thought to another.

She entered the garden and began wandering through the pathway to the oak tree. She noticed Mr Smythe, her Uncle's elderly gardener pruning some bushes. She frowned. Didn't he usually come on Wednesdays?

Elizabeth greeted the kind, elderly gardener.

Mr Symthe doffed his cap. "Afternoon Miss. Right fine day."

Elizabeth smiled. "Yes, it is." The gardener went back to his work and Elizabeth moved on. As she approached the oak tree, she was surprised to find Jane sitting on the bench.

"Jane! This is a pleasant surprise."

Jane smiled. "I thought you would eventually wander out here. I felt the need for some air. Being inside these past four days has left me feeling restless."

"I understand." Elizabeth noticed her sister had a book and asked, "What are you reading?"

Jane looked sheepishly at her sister. "_Much Ado__About Nothing_. I noticed you reading it earlier. Or rather, trying to read it." Jane laughed, "I forgot how diverting it is."

Elizabeth smiled, taking the book from Jane. "Yes, it is one of my favorites."

"I can see why. Beatrice reminds me of you."

"Surely not! My wit is not so acerbic as Beatrice."

"No, it is her liveliness, her passion for life, and the ability to find humor in all situations that I find similar."

"Well, my 'ability to find humor in all situations' has deserted me today."

Noticing her sister's anxious expression, she changed the subject. "Do you think Benedict a good match for Beatrice? I always thought they were too similar in temperament."

Elizabeth was thoughtful as she said, "Yes. In a sense, I would have to agree. Although, their intellects are evenly matched, which I believe is very important. They are equals in that sense." She turned to Jane, with a smile. "If I am Beatrice, then you surely must be Hero. The beautiful, and gentle heroine."

"And my Claudio? Where is he?"

"Sir Reginald?" Elizabeth said teasingly.

"Lizzy! You are not going to foist one of your suitors off on me. He is interested in _you_. I would be a poor substitute."

Elizabeth sighed. "It would make things so much easier if he were interested in you. I wouldn't be in my current dilemma."

"Well, he is not and I am glad."

Elizabeth looked at her sister in surprise. "Truly? I think his temperament is much more suited to you than me. I feel that we are too similar. Much like Beatrice and Benedict."

Jane raised her brows. "Or maybe you simply prefer a different kind of gentleman?"

Elizabeth blushed. "Perhaps."

"I admit I am looking forward to meeting your Mr Darcy, after everything I have heard about him."

"He is not _mine_, Jane."

Jane echoed her sister's earlier statement. "Perhaps."

Elizabeth laughed and shook her head. Her expression sobered as she said, "Jane, you will find your match."

"I know Lizzy." Her expression brightened. "Perhaps, Mr Darcy has a friend?"

"I am sure he does. But, he does have a cousin!" Elizabeth absentmindedly said, "I wonder if the Colonel will attend today?"

"I am looking forward to meeting the Colonel. With all the stories Lady Eleanor tells of him, he sounds quite...interesting."

Elizabeth laughed. "Interesting, is an apt word. I think you will enjoy his company very much."

Jane stood to go. As Elizabeth began to stand, Jane prevented her. "Stay awhile, Lizzy. I know you could use some time alone before our guests arrive. I will make sure Aunt sends someone to fetch you when it is time."

Elizabeth sat back down. "Thank you, Jane. I could use a moment to compose myself." Elizabeth was too preoccupied to notice the mischievous gleam in her sisters eyes as she left.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

"Would you stop that, cousin? You're making me nervous with all that bouncing." Richard grinned at Darcy, who was sitting across from him in the carriage, Georgiana at his side.

Darcy glared. "I am _not_ nervous, Richard. I am excited. There is a difference."

"Is there? Well, in any case, your leg has not stopped moving since we boarded the carriage. It will not make us go any faster, I assure you."

"Don't make me regret inviting you," Darcy retorted.

"You didn't invite me, I invited myself. I am not about to miss an opportunity to watch Miss Elizabeth best you again with her wit. I would pay good money for that."

"Richard, please. Stop." Darcy ran his hands through his hair. "I am trying to compose myself before I meet her again. I don't need you remarking on whatever thought passes through that imbecilic head of yours."

Richard laughed. "I am merely trying to distract you, Darcy." Richard peered out the window of the carriage. "See. We are here."

"What? Already?"

Richard looked at Georgiana with a large smile. "See? He _is_ nervous."

Georgiana stifled a giggle. "Behave, cousin. I am nervous as well."

"What do you have to be nervous about? You are already friends with Miss Elizabeth. You have nothing to prove." Richard pointed a finger at Darcy, "Unlike your brother."

"But this is the first time meeting her since, you know. _I know_." Georgiana whispered the last sentence.

"Georgiana, please tell me your brother's inability to form a coherent sentence has not rubbed off on you. Maybe I should talk with Mrs Annesley?"

Georgiana glared at her cousin. "Fitzwilliam, I think we should make Richard wait with the horses. I just know he is going to say something to embarrass you."

"Don't be ridiculous. Darcy doesn't need _me_ for that. He'll manage fine on his own." Richard rubbed his hands together and grinned. "I can't wait."

With an irritated look aimed at his cousin, Darcy descended from the carriage and turned to assist his sister. Taking a deep breath, he mounted the steps. Just a few more minutes and he would again be in her presence. Darcy smiled. What could possibly go wrong?

In moments, Darcy, Richard and Georgiana were announced and ushered into the parlor, where they were greeted by Mrs Gardiner. Darcy took in the tasteful, well-appointed room. As he glanced around the room, he frowned. He did not see Elizabeth. He noticed the pretty, blond woman that had received the injury at Lynton's ball. She must be Miss Bennet, Elizabeth's older sister. Trying to hide his disappointment, he turned his attention back to his hostess as she made the appropriate introductions. Before he could ask where Elizabeth was, Georgiana spoke.

"Where is Miss Elizabeth? She has not taken ill, I hope?"

"Oh, no. She is outside in the garden. I suppose I should have a maid fetch her."

"I would be happy to go and get Miss Elizabeth, Mrs Gardiner." Darcy quickly stood.

She smiled beatifically at him. "That would be wonderful. Thank you Mr Darcy." She motioned for a maid to show him the way outside.

With eagerness, Darcy followed the maid out of the room. Entering the garden, he paused in surprise. It was much larger than he thought. Larger even than the garden at Darcy House. Eager to find Elizabeth, he walked purposefully forward, scanning the foliage as he went. He quickly came upon an elderly gardener. As he nodded politely in his direction, the gardener spoke.

"If ye be lookin' for the young miss, she be by the large tree." He pointed with a gnarled hand in the correct direction.

"Thank you." Darcy resumed his quick pace. As he came upon the large, oak tree he stopped in amazement. What was she doing?

FEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Elizabeth sat quietly on the bench, letting her thoughts flow unchecked. Spying _Much Ado About Nothing_ lying beside her, she picked it up; turning it over in her hand. Opening it up, she decided to read her favorite passages. It would help time pass quickly and would take her mind off seeing Mr Darcy again. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation. She thought about seeing Sir Reginald again. She waited. Nothing. No nervous excitement. No flutters of anticipation. Shaking her head, she smiled and began reading.

Sometime later, she laid the book down beside her. Leaning back, she gazed up at the tree, spreading out above her in all its glorious splendor. Suddenly feeling a desire to be in the tree instead of under the tree, she quickly stood and climbed up on the bench. As she reached up to the lowest branch to pull herself up, she heard a voice that immediately halted her progress.

"Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth froze. Turning slowly and carefully so she didn't fall, she met the amused gaze of, "Mr Darcy!" Elizabeth gasped and immediately blushed. Why did she always find herself in the worse predicaments when he was around? Fate was cruel, indeed.

"Were you about to climb that tree?" Darcy's lips twitched in an effort to keep from laughing.

"No, of course not!" Elizabeth's indignant expression contradicted her actions, as she was still standing on the bench.

"Hmmm..." Eyes dancing with barely concealed delight, he extended a hand to assist her off the bench.

Taking a deep breath, she reached out and took his proffered hand. Her gaze met his as his hand closed firmly over her small one, gripping it lightly. As he helped her down, he briefly squeezed her hand, before letting go.

"I didn't realize it was so late. I apologize for not being there when you and Miss Darcy arrived."

"That is quite alright, Miss Elizabeth. I was happy to come and fetch you." With raised brows, he added, "Do you often climb trees, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth blushed slightly, but unflinchingly met his gaze. "Yes. I do." _What do you think of that, Mr Darcy?_

Darcy smiled at Elizabeth's courage to acknowledge it. "I admit it has been some time since I have climbed a tree. I don't think I would be able to perform it as easily as I'm sure you do."

Elizabeth grinned playfully at Mr Darcy. "Should we find out?"

Darcy's eyes widened. "Now?"

Elizabeth raised a brow in challenge. "Afraid, Mr Darcy?"

"Of you? Never. Of falling? Absolutely."

Elizabeth laughed with delight. "I suppose it isn't proper. We don't have the time for it in any case."

Darcy placed a hand over his heart and said with mock gravity, "I promise to climb a tree with you one day, Miss Elizabeth."

"Be careful what you promise, Mr Darcy. I will hold you to it."

"I hope you do." Darcy said with sincerity, his gaze warm.

Elizabeth smiled. This man never acted in the way she expected him to. She found it quite...appealing. Turning, she picked up her book. "Shall we go inside?"

Darcy was reluctant to leave the garden and join the others; when Elizabeth's attention would be divided amongst his sister and cousin. He was being selfish, but he wanted to prolong this time with her as much as possible. Pointing to her book, he asked, "What are you reading?"

In response, Elizabeth handed it to him. As he read the title, his eyebrows raised, and a small smile graced his lips. "A Shakespeare Comedy?"

"You look surprised, Mr Darcy."

He shook his head, "No, not surprised. I guess I expected you to be reading a different Shakespeare play, say, _Hamlet_?" He looked at Elizabeth with a knowing smile.

Elizabeth's eyes shined as she playfully said, "why? Because I quoted _Hamlet _at tea last Saturday?" She shook her head, "In truth, I have never cared much for Shakespeare's tragedy's. Too dark and dramatic for my tastes. I have always preferred his lighter comedies; I love the ridiculous."

Darcy handed the book back to Elizabeth. "Yes, I can see why you would. Life for you is like a comedy, I imagine. I have always preferred Shakespeare's Tragedy's."

"Maybe our preferences are indicative of our dispositions?" Elizabeth arched one eyebrow. "I am generally a happy, optimistic person, while you tend to be more serious and reflective, I think."

"His tragedy's are more realistic; they more closely resemble how life is."

Elizabeth looked at Mr Darcy in astonishment. "You think life is a tragedy?" Elizabeth studied Mr Darcy's countenance. If she hadn't been searching his face so intently, she would have missed the barely concealed flash of pain cross his handsome features.

"I just know mine is, or has been...until now." Darcy lowered his head slightly to gaze into Elizabeth's eyes. For a brief moment, he allowed her to see behind his carefully constructed mask. He showed her his pain, his loneliness, his hopelessness before he met her. He had never allowed himself to be so vulnerable to another human being.

Elizabeth held Mr Darcy's gaze with her own. A myriad of emotions passed through his blue eyes. Pain. Loneliness. Despair. She felt an intense desire to give him relief, to show him that he was not alone; that she understood. Without conscience thought, she lifted her hand to gently cup his face. She couldn't explain it, but in that moment she felt bound to him by some inexplicable link. Mr Darcy sighed, closing his eyes, he leaned his face into her palm. He slowly opened his eyes; his gaze soft, intimate. Without breaking her gaze, he gently took the hand cupping his face and placed a light kiss on the inside of her wrist.

Darcy retained Elizabeth's hand, gently rubbing circles on the back of it. He never wanted to let her go. As he leaned in and whispered, "Elizabeth..." his gaze caught another person walking steadily towards them. As the man got closer, his eyes hardened. What was _he _doing here?

Elizabeth was startled by the sudden change in Mr Darcy's expression. She turned her head slightly and sucked in a quick breath. Sir Reginald. She quickly looked back at Mr Darcy. His gaze was hard and forbidding.

Darcy glanced down at Elizabeth, his gaze hard and unyielding. In a tense voice, he asked, "Were you expecting Sir Reginald, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth recoiled from his forbidding glare. Raising her chin slightly she said, "My _Aunt _invited him." Elizabeth made sure she emphasized who was responsible for Sir Reginald's invitation.

Darcy searched Elizabeth's eyes, looking for any signs of duplicity. She said her Aunt invited him, but did she desire his company as well? Her eyes held nothing but sincerity and honesty. Darcy sighed in relief. Of course _his _Elizabeth would not play him false. He softened his gaze and said, "Forgive me. I was not expecting him to be here."

"No, the fault is mine. I should have mentioned it earlier."

Darcy smiled and said, "I'm not. Why waste our time talking about him?"

Elizabeth was prevented from replying as Sir Reginald approached. He eyed her and Mr Darcy with a speculative gleam in his eye. Elizabeth greeted him with a slight smile. She curtsied as she said, "Sir Reginald, welcome."

Sir Reginald bowed, taking her hand to raise it briefly to his lips. He smiled slightly as he noticed Darcy stiffen in response. "It is a pleasure to see you again, Miss Elizabeth." Turning to Darcy, he nodded in acknowledgment. "Darcy. A pleasure as always."

"Lynton." Darcy's terse response clearly indicated his displeasure.

Sir Reginald turned to Elizabeth with a warm smile. "I was sent to discover if you and Mr Darcy had gotten lost."

"No, not lost. We started talking and lost track of time." Elizabeth turned slightly toward Mr Darcy, noting his stiff posture and tense expression. "We were simply discussing our differences of opinion on Shakespeare."

Sir Reginald raised his eyebrows. "Indeed? How...interesting."

Elizabeth could tell by the tone of his voice that he did not believe her. Well, he could believe what he wanted; they _had_ been discussing Shakespeare. They had done nothing of which they should be ashamed. Elizabeth briefly wondered if he had observed her as she touched Mr Darcy's face. Elizabeth blushed slightly as she remembered that indescribable moment. As she met Sir Reginald's perceptive gaze, she blushed further.

Darcy watched as Elizabeth became uncomfortable under Lynton's scrutiny._How dare he? _ Eager to get her away from Lynton, he offered Elizabeth his arm. "Shall we return to the house?"

"Just a moment." Sir Reginald raised his hand, stopping their progress forward. He turned to Elizabeth, and said, "Miss Elizabeth, if you will excuse us? I wish to speak with Darcy for a moment."

Elizabeth turned to Mr Darcy. As her gaze met his, he nodded slightly and smiled. Taking a deep breath, she turned and started back to the house.

She glanced back once before the path obscured them from her sight. She couldn't hear what was being said, but she could tell by the stiff posture of Mr Darcy that he was not pleased. Shaking her head in slight annoyance, she turned and continued her way back to the house. _Men!_

A/N: Well, there is Part I of the Terrible Tea Party. What do you think Lynton will say to Darcy? What did you think of E&amp;Ds 2nd official meeting? **Please review!**

A reader pointed out that it was confusing switching between Mr Lynton and Sir Reginald. Back in chapter 4, when Darcy is getting ready for the ball, he explains how Sir Reginald likes to be called Lynton due to hating his given name (Really, who wouldn't!). When he inherited the title, he insisted on being called Lynton, instead of the customary, Sir Reginald. I had a scene in Chapter 4 where Elizabeth and Lynton dance the first time, and he explains how he prefers to be called Lynton. But I cut it out, thinking it was unnecessary and delayed the scene where E and D see each other for the first time. So that is why I had Elizabeth refer to him as Mr Lynton, instead of Sir Reginald. But, it _is_ confusing. When I go back and edit after finishing this story, I will clean that up a bit. In the meantime, I will have everyone refer to Lynton as Sir Reginald, except the men. Clear as mud? Good.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 10

Elizabeth entered the house and made her way quickly to the Parlor, her mind trying to make sense of what just happened. What could Sir Reginald have to say to Mr Darcy? Was he going to warn Mr Darcy away from her? Elizabeth abruptly stopped as that thought took root. He wouldn't do that, would he? What right did he have to say anything to Mr Darcy about her? He wasn't her brother or guardian. She was worried that he had witnessed her improper behavior. She blushed at the thought of someone else observing that moment between her and Mr Darcy.

As she entered the Parlor, her Aunt exclaimed, "Well, it is good of you to finally join us. The tea is nearly cold!" When her Aunt realized that Elizabeth was alone, she said in confusion, "Why Lizzy! Where are Mr Darcy and Sir Reginald?" Seeing Elizabeth's troubled countenance, she started and exclaimed, "Good heavens, they aren't fighting?"

Elizabeth took in the other occupants of the room. They were all looking at Elizabeth with varying expressions of confusion and dismay. Elizabeth smiled and shrugged her shoulders to hide her own distress over the situation. "Sir Reginald said he wished to speak with Mr Darcy."

"He what?" Colonel Fitzwilliam stood abruptly and with a hurried, "excuse me ladies," headed for the door. Turning to Elizabeth he asked to be shown to the garden. As they left the room, the Colonel lowered his voice and said, "Miss Elizabeth, tell me everything."

"Everything?" Elizabeth said in surprise. Did the Colonel really expect her to relate _all_ that had occurred between Mr Darcy and herself?

The Colonel looked at her with a wide grin. "Well, I guess Darcy doesn't waste any time." The Colonel laughed upon seeing Elizabeth's expression. "I meant, tell me everything relating to Lynton and Darcy."

"Oh! Of course." Elizabeth proceeded to tell the Colonel the entire conversation between the two gentlemen. She asked, "why would Sir Reginald want to speak with Mr Darcy? What could he possibly have to say?"

The Colonel looked at Elizabeth with raised brows and a slight smile, "What do you think they are talking about, or I should say, _whom_ they are talking about." He looked at Elizabeth with a meaningful smile.

Elizabeth blushed slightly. "What could Sir Reginald possibly have to say to Mr Darcy about me?" Again, the Colonel simply looked at her with a knowing smile. Elizabeth huffed. "What right has Sir Reginald to interfere in others affairs?"

"You mean the affairs of you and Darcy?" At the embarrassed look on Elizabeth's face, he laughed. "Don't worry, Miss Elizabeth. Darcy is not one to give up what he wants. And believe me when I say, he knows what he wants."

"It is more likely he will decide I am not worth the trouble." Elizabeth said quietly under her breath.

Hearing her softly uttered statement, the Colonel said, "Believe me, Miss Elizabeth. _That _will never happen."

Elizabeth looked at the Colonel in surprise. "How can you be so sure? Mr Darcy hardly knows me!"

Colonel Fitzwilliam looked at Elizabeth in understanding. "Do I really need to answer that, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth didn't respond to his rhetorical question. She stopped at the door leading to the garden. "Here it is, Colonel. Please bring them both back, preferably unharmed."

"Of course, but are you sure you want Sir Reginald to remain unharmed?" With a laugh, the Colonel entered the garden.

Elizabeth smiled and shook her head, returning to join her Aunt, Jane and Miss Darcy in the Parlor.

Upon entering, Miss Darcy jumped up and walked quickly to Elizabeth. "Miss Elizabeth, please tell us what is going on? What did you mean that Sir Reginald wishes to speak to my brother? Tell us everything."

Elizabeth laughed lightly at the exact phrase the Colonel had used just moments earlier. Sitting down near her Aunt, she looked at the three women, their expressions expectant. "Before Mr Darcy and I could return to the house, Sir Reginald appeared and requested that I leave so he could talk to Mr Darcy, alone. That is all"

Jane and Mrs Gardiner shared a knowing look that was not lost on Elizabeth.

Miss Darcy huffed. "The audacity of that man. What right does he have to question Fitzwilliam about you?"

"It seems that everyone is under the assumption that he wishes to speak with Mr Darcy about me. But it is entirely possible it is something entirely different." Even as Elizabeth uttered the words, she didn't believe them. She knew they were talking about her and she didn't know how she felt about it.

The three women exchanged amused glances. Jane said with a smile, "Lizzy, you know that is not true."

Elizabeth turned to her Aunt, "This is all your fault, you know."

"And I take full responsibility. I agree with Miss Darcy that it is not in Sir Reginald's purview to question Mr Darcy. But, it does tell us something." Mrs Gardiner looked at Elizabeth with a sly smile. "We know that Sir Reginald has taken an interest in you, otherwise why would he feel it necessary to confront Mr Darcy?"

Georgiana looked at Mrs Gardiner and with assurance said, "I believe he is telling Fitzwilliam he will not interfere. He is not going to pursue Miss Elizabeth because he knows of my brothers interest."

Mrs Gardiner and Jane shared another knowing smile as Elizabeth stared at Miss Darcy in shock. Realizing what she had just confessed, Georgiana blushed, but unflinchingly said, "Well, it is true."

Mrs Gardiner smiled and said, "Well, I am eagerly awaiting the gentlemen's return."

Elizabeth directed a frustrated look towards her Aunt. She was seriously considering excusing herself to avoid the entire tangled mess.

FEFEFEFEFEFE

Darcy watched Elizabeth walk away, wishing he was escorting her. If only Lynton hadn't interrupted them. Why would Mrs Gardiner invite Lynton to tea? Was he interested in Elizabeth? Or perhaps Miss Bennet? For Lynton's sake he hoped his interest lay elsewhere. Elizabeth was his and his alone. His thoughts were interrupted as Lynton cleared his throat. He stiffened his back and turned to face him. Lynton had an amused expression on his face, but his eyes were grave. Darcy raised his brows. "Well? You asked to speak with me. It better be important, Lynton. We are guests here. It is impolite to keep our hostess waiting."

"Oh, it's important, Darcy. As for keeping our hostess waiting; you should have thought of that when you lingered out here with Miss Elizabeth."

Darcy's face darkened. "I offered to fetch Miss Elizabeth. And I don't see how that is any business of yours. You forget yourself, Lynton."

"No, I think you forget yourself, Darcy." Lynton matched Darcy's hard and unyielding gaze. "I don't think you realize what a untenable position you have placed Miss Elizabeth."

Darcy stepped closer to Lynton, his posture aggressive. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Lynton lowered his voice, "Oh, I think you know what it means, Darcy."

"How dare you? Who are you to question me, Lynton. You are not Miss Elizabeth's brother or guardian. You are merely an acquaintance, if that."

"No, I am not her guardian, or her brother. But I care for Miss Elizabeth and I don't want to see her hurt. And I know you are a new acquaintance as well. You forget, I know you sent Richard to find out who she was. A little early in your relationship to be engaging in what I witnessed just now, don't you think?"

Darcy was incensed. He had never been so close to striking another person. The effrontery of the man! Questioning his motives, his intentions? Before he could respond to Lynton, Richard approached.

Richard took in the scene before him. Lynton and Darcy were facing inches apart from each other, with nearly identical heated expressions and clenched fists. Well, it looks I got here just in time to prevent them both from behaving like idiotic, lovesick schoolboys. Richard shook his head in exasperation. "Gentlemen. I must question your sanity if you prefer to stay out here when there is such beauty to be found indoors."

"We're finished." Darcy turned to leave.

"No, we are not." Lynton held up a hand to prevent Darcy's departure.

Darcy slapped Lynton's hand away. "I will say this once, Lynton. Elizabeth is mine. You had best give in, because I have already won."

Lynton looked at Darcy in astonishment. "You speak of Miss Elizabeth as if she were simply a prize to be won and possessed!"

"Of course she isn't! But she has won my heart and I possess hers. I am telling you this now, Lynton. You have no chance with her."

Lynton stared at Darcy. "You're mad. How can you possibly claim that, Darcy? You have known her even less than I have. I have at least danced with her and spent more than 30 minutes in her presence. I am not willing to give her up without a fight. So you better be up for a little competition, Darcy. Because I am not willing to concede the battle yet."

Richard raised his brows, "with all this talk of battles and winning prizes, one would think it were you two who were in His Majesty's Army, not me."

Darcy ignored his cousin. "If you try to win her, you will fail."

"Why don't we allow the lady to decide? Eh, Darcy?"

Richard snorted in amusement. "If Miss Elizabeth could see the way the two of you were acting, I would be able to swoop in and capture her for myself!"

Darcy turned to his cousin, irritated, "Richard, stay out of this!"

Richard shook his head. "I promised Miss Elizabeth I would bring the both of you back unharmed. If you continue like you've started, I fear I will not be able to keep my promise. And as a gentleman, I cannot allow that to happen. So, let's put our swords away and join the ladies. I believe you both have some wooing to do." With that, Richard stepped back and motioned for them to precede him into the house.

At the mention of Elizabeth, both men relaxed. Lynton looked at Darcy. He held out his hand, "May the best man win."

Darcy reluctantly took the proffered hand. "I will."

Richard rolled his eyes. "Darcy, you say 'I will' on your wedding day to the woman you pledge to love, worship, protect, and all that. Don't waste those wonderful words on this scoundrel." Richard winked at Lynton.

Darcy sighed in exasperation. "Richard, remind me again why you are here?"

"Well, in this instance, to prevent you from maiming Lynton."

Lynton looked at Richard, "What about to prevent me from maiming Darcy?"

Richard laughed. "Lynton, look at him. He's a mountain. Besides I am convinced if he stares at you long enough, you'll turn to stone. So, word of advice, Lynton. Don't ever fight him. You'll lose."

Lynton turned his gaze to Richard. "Is that a threat?"

Richard snorted. "Of course not." Richard's gaze changed from amused to serious. "It's a certainty." Richard stared at Lynton until he looked away, unable to maintain his penetrating gaze. Richard nodded in satisfaction. He turned to Darcy, "So, are we ready to go into battle, gentlemen?

Darcy huffed. He turned to Lynton, his gaze neutral. "Lynton, for what it's worth, my intentions are entirely honorable."

Lynton smiled slightly. "I know, Darcy. Mine too."

Darcy nodded. He still felt that Lynton would do better to bow out. But if he was determined to try to win Elizabeth, he would ultimately end up disappointed. Recalling Lynton's reference to the behavior he had witnessed, he said, "Lynton, you will not mention what you witnessed between myself and Miss Elizabeth, am I understood?" Darcy lowered his gaze to meet the eyes of the shorter man. He would not allow Lynton to spread rumors about him and Miss Elizabeth.

Lynton replied, "Of course not. That would not serve my purpose, now would it?" With that, he turned and quickly walked back to the house.

Richard and Darcy followed at a slower pace. Richard turned to Darcy in amusement. "What _did_ happen between you and Miss Elizabeth?"

"Mind your own business, Richard."

"Well, it must have been good because Miss Elizabeth blushed like a rose when I asked her to tell me everything."

Darcy stopped and turned to his cousin in alarm. "You asked Elizabeth to confide in you? Richard!"

"Calm down, Darcy. When I asked her to 'tell me everything' I meant about you and.." Richard gestured toward Lynton who was several paces ahead of them.

"Did she seem concerned? Distraught? I did not like sending her back to the house alone under the circumstances."

"She was fine. That woman has more fortitude than a contingent of soldiers." Richard pointed to Lynton who was about to enter the house. "By the way, you better step up your pace. Lynton has a head start on you." At Darcy's questioning look, he said, "Whoever gets to the Parlor first will get to sit next to Miss Elizabeth." In alarm, Darcy practically started running to outpace Lynton.

As he watched his cousin catch up to his competition, Richard rubbed his hands together, muttering under his breath, "Now the fun begins!"

FEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Elizabeth sat in the Parlor in nervous anticipation. Why weren't the gentlemen back yet? What could be taking them so long? She was sitting next to her Aunt, quietly sipping her tea while Jane and Miss Darcy conversed amongst themselves.

Mrs Gardiner leaned over and in a low voice said, "Did you enjoy your time with Mr Darcy, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth looked at her Aunt in surprise. Noting her scheming expression, everything suddenly fell into place. "Why Aunt! You arranged it all!"

Mrs Gardiner smiled. "Of course I did. After our conversation this morning, I realized that you were developing feelings for Mr Darcy, so I decided to give you both an opportunity to converse. Alone. Well, not alone. I did arrange for Mr Smythe to be present to give the appearance of propriety. I gave him strict instructions to stay close enough to see you, but not hear you."

Elizabeth shook her head in wonder. "I never thought you could be so, so..."

"Devious?" Mrs Gardiner supplied with a smile. "Well, I had help. Jane was more than willing to assist."

Elizabeth's eyes widened in sudden realization. "Jane kept me from returning to the house."

Mrs Gardiner nodded in agreement. "I had sent a note to Darcy House asking Miss Darcy to contrive a reason to come slightly early, so it would be Mr Darcy who would come to the garden. I have to say, Lizzy. He was very quick to volunteer." She gave her niece a knowing smile as Elizabeth blushed. "I hope you made the most of it."

Just then, a slight commotion caused the ladies to look up in slight alarm. Mr Darcy and Sir Reginald burst into the room. They both paused at the threshold, taking quick survey of the occupants. Seeing the empty chair next to Miss Elizabeth, they both headed in that direction. Elizabeth's eyes widened in alarm. It was quite disconcerting to see two gentlemen coming towards her with a determined glint in their eyes. Next to her, her Aunt laughed quietly. _Well, this should be interesting._

Lynton managed to claim the seat next to Elizabeth. Throwing a triumphant look in Darcy's direction, he turned to Elizabeth with a wide smile. Elizabeth turned slightly to gaze up at Mr Darcy, who was glaring at Lynton. Feeling Elizabeth's gaze, he turned to her, his expression changing to one of chagrin. Offering a small smile, he took a position behind Elizabeth's chair.

Colonel Fitzwilliam entered in a leisurely fashion and took his previous seat, next to Miss Bennet and Georgiana. Seeing Lynton next to Miss Elizabeth, with Darcy hovering behind her, he smirked. Leaning toward Georgiana, he quietly asked, "Did I miss anything?" Georgiana slightly shook her head.

Mrs Gardiner cleared her throat and smiled slightly. As she prepared Sir Reginald's tea, she turned to Mr Darcy and asked how he liked his tea.

Elizabeth automatically answered. "Just lemon."

Mrs Gardiner looked at Elizabeth in amusement and winked. "Just like Lizzy."

Noticing Darcy's smug smile, Lynton frowned slightly. He realized that if Elizabeth knew how Darcy liked his tea, she had spent more time with him than he previously thought. He needed to turn the tables in his favor, and quickly. Turning to Elizabeth, he asked, "I understand you enjoy Shakespeare, Miss Elizabeth."

"Yes, I do. I don't know many who do not."

"Which plays are your favorites, or do you prefer his sonnets"?

"I prefer his comedy's, although," Elizabeth glanced up at Mr Darcy, holding his gaze, as she said, "I am beginning to understand that his tragedy's offer us a closer view of life's realities."

Lynton narrowed his eyes in annoyance as he watched a significant look pass between them. Deciding to change the subject, he asked, "Do you like the theatre, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth broke her gaze away from Mr Darcy. "Oh, I do. Very much."

"Have you had the opportunity to attend since being in London?"

"No, not yet. But I am sure I will have the opportunity."

"I would be pleased to invite you, Miss Bennet and Mr and Mrs Gardiner to join me in my family box for the opera tomorrow night."

"Oh!" Elizabeth was torn. She did want to go, very much. However, she did not want to give Sir Reginald the impression that she was encouraging his interest.

Before she could respond, Miss Darcy spoke up. "Oh, but Fitzwilliam and I were hoping you all would join us in our box for tomorrow's performance. Indeed, Miss Bennet and I were just talking of it. Weren't we, Miss Bennet?" Georgiana turned to Jane with a pleading look on her face.

"Y-Yes, we were talking about how much we enjoy the theatre." Jane blushed slightly at the subterfuge.

Colonel Fitzwilliam tried to hide his smile. This was about to get very interesting. He causally leaned back in his chair and settled in to wait.

Georgiana, noticing Richard's mischievous expression, leaned in and whispered, "What are you doing, cousin?"

He raised his brows, "Watching the show."

Jane turned to him with a slightly displeased look. "You enjoy watching my sister become increasingly uncomfortable?"

Richard sat up, "No, of course not! But I do enjoy watching my cousin become increasingly upset." He nodded in Darcy's direction. "Indeed, he looks like he would like nothing better than to toss Lynton out the window." Rising, he approached the threesome and Mrs Gardiner. "Well, it seems we have a dilemma. You can't sit in two different boxes at once."

Darcy addressed Mrs Gardiner. "If you are available for tomorrow's performance, we would be pleased to have you sit with us."

Mrs Gardiner glanced at Elizabeth, her expression torn. Sir Reginald offered his box first, but she had a feeling she knew where her niece would prefer to be.

Lynton turned slightly and looked up at Darcy. "I have already offered, Darcy. It is imprudent of you to offer for the same performance." Before he could say anything else, he was interrupted by Miss Darcy.

"But we have also offered. Just because the offer was made by me to Miss Bennet, does not make our invitation invalid." Georgiana scowled at Sir Reginald. The nerve of the man! Couldn't he see where Miss Elizabeth's interest lay?

Startled by Miss Darcy's animosity towards him, Lynton stared at her in bemusement. He turned to address her, "But Miss Darcy, I have asked Mrs Gardiner, first. Therefore, my invitation has the prior claim."

Darcy had been watching Elizabeth grow increasingly distressed at the situation. He decided to alleviate her concern by offering a compromise. Turning to Lynton, he said, "I have the perfect solution. I propose that we all attend the performance together. There is more than enough room for us in my box. I would be happy to extend the invitation to include you, Lynton." Darcy bowed slightly in Lynton's direction.

Lynton looked at Darcy for a moment trying to determine his motive. Clearing his throat, he decided it wasn't worth pressing the issue. "I would be happy to accept. Thank you, Darcy."

Lynton turned and addressed Elizabeth. "I will come to escort you to the Opera at eight o'clock."

Darcy straightened, and said tersely, "_I_ will escort Miss Elizabeth to the theatre, Lynton as she will be sitting in _my_ box."

"Which is why _I_ will be escorting her, Darcy." Lynton was beginning to feel a strain in his neck by looking up at Darcy. Why did the man have to be so tall? Mountain, indeed.

If this were happening to someone else, Elizabeth would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. But at this very moment, she felt like screaming. Her Aunt, noticing her agitation, reached over and placed a comforting hand over hers.

Richard also noticed Elizabeth's distress and quickly came to her rescue. "Well, there is not enough room in one carriage for all..." he quickly counted, "eight of us, so we will have to take two carriages."

Darcy turned to his cousin with a grateful look. He said, "I suggest that one of us escorts Miss Elizabeth to the performance, while the other, escorts her home."

"I will escort her home." Lynton quickly replied.

"As you wish."

Elizabeth abruptly stood, startling everyone in the room. Turning to the gentlemen, she said in barely concealed anger, "Well, I am glad you have decided everything according to _your_ satisfaction. But in the future, gentlemen, it would behoove you to ask the lady instead of deciding everything amongst yourselves." With that Elizabeth turned and stalked as gracefully as she could from the room. _Men!_

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Everyone sat in stunned silence for a moment after Elizabeth's abrupt departure. Jane quickly stood and moved to follow her sister, but was forestalled by Mrs Gardiner. "No, Jane. Allow me. I put her in this predicament, I will see her out of it." She quickly exited the room to find her niece.

Those remaining looked uncomfortably around the room, avoiding each other's gaze. Darcy closed his eyes, furious at himself. How could he have been so stupid? Regardless of Lynton's marked interest, he should never have allowed his jealousy to override her opinion. Talking about her as if she weren't in the room! Darcy groaned, running his hands through his hair.

Richard came up next to his cousin and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Well, you can only increase in her estimation from here, Darcy. Cheer up, all is not lost. Although, you may have to concede this particular battle to Lynton."

Darcy looked at his cousin in exasperation. "Didn't you hear Elizabeth, Richard? She's right. We didn't even ask her. What a fool I am!"

"No, just a lovesick fool, Darcy." He smiled wryly at his cousin. "Apologize, and all will be well."

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Elizabeth didn't pay attention to where she was going. She just wanted to get as far away from those two infuriating gentlemen as possible. Finding herself near the garden, she quickly headed in that direction. Exiting the house, she paused as she stepped outside and took a deep, fortifying breath. Closing her eyes, she turned her face up towards the sun, letting its rays warm her face. Elizabeth heard soft footsteps approaching and knowing it was her Aunt, said, "I apologize for my unseemly behavior, Aunt."

"You have nothing to apologize for. Others are culpable, not you."

Sighing, Elizabeth turned to face her Aunt. "I just wish things were not so complicated. I feel unequal to this task, managing two gentlemen's interest. It is too much."

"It is too much, only because you do not wish for your attentions to be divided. Am I right?"

Elizabeth turned tear filled eyes to her Aunt. "Oh Aunt, I don't wish to cause anyone pain. I don't know how to let Sir Reginald know that I can't...that I'm not..."

Mrs Gardiner gently pulled Elizabeth into her embrace. "I am sorry Lizzy. I see now that your Uncle was right, this was 'very badly done.'"

Wiping her tears, Elizabeth laughed. "No, I see you were only trying to help. To allow you the opportunity to observe both gentlemen and give me an impartial perspective."

"But I should have seen that you did not need my impartial perspective. You are astute enough to know your own heart."

Elizabeth looked solemnly at her Aunt. "I am still unsure about a lot of things, Aunt. But I know that there is no future with Sir Reginald. I can't in good conscience lead him on and give him false hope. I will not do that. I refuse to do it."

"Well, then what are you going to do?"

With determination, Elizabeth turned to go back to the Parlor. "For now, I will be diplomatic. I'm not going to humiliate Sir Reginald in a roomful of people."

Mrs Gardiner laughed. "I should hope not. Lead the way, Lizzy. I will support whatever you decide."

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Everyone turned as Elizabeth reentered the room. She came and stood directly in front of Mr Darcy and Sir Reginald. Looking them both in the eye, she said humbly, "I apologize for my outburst and abrupt departure, it was very rude of me." Seeing both gentlemen open their mouths in protest, she held up a hand. "I thank you both for the invitation to attend the Opera. However, the Colonel is correct. We cannot be in two places at once. Sir Reginald did extend his offer first." She nodded in his direction. Seeing Mr Darcy's countenance fall, she quickly continued, "however, as Mr Darcy has also extended an invitation for Sir Reginald to join his party, it is not my right to rescind that invitation." Turning to Mr Darcy, she said, "Therefore, I accept your invitation gratefully on behalf of my family." At her pronouncement, Darcy smiled widely at Elizabeth, joy infusing his features. Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat and she had to remind herself to keep breathing. To distract herself from Mr Darcy's blinding countenance, she turned to Sir Reginald. "I am sure we will all enjoy ourselves immensely."

Sir Reginald bowed to Elizabeth. Smiling, he said, "I am sure we will, Miss Elizabeth." Clearing his throat, he asked, "Who would you like to be your escort, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth looked at the hopeful expressions of each gentleman. Here was an opportunity to make her preference clearly known. However, if she accepted Mr Darcy's escort as she wished it would be extremely awkward at the Opera tomorrow night. Quickly coming to a decision, she said, "I will travel in my Uncle's carriage. We will meet you there."

Darcy was disappointed, but he knew her decision was sound. He was grateful he wouldn't have to see his Elizabeth be escorted home by Lynton. He would have to ensure she sat by him during the Opera.

Elizabeth smiled at both gentlemen and turned to her sister, Miss Darcy and the Colonel. "I wish to apologize to you as well. I am sorry if I made anyone uncomfortable."

Richard quickly said, "No apologies are necessary, Miss Elizabeth. We understand." He smiled kindly at her.

Miss Darcy came forward, and taking Elizabeth by the hand led her over to the other side of the room. Sitting down on the sofa, she said with excitement, "I am so glad you will be coming to the Opera tomorrow night. I am so looking forward to it. I have heard so much about the lead Soprano that I have been begging brother to take me."

"Which Opera will be seeing?" Elizabeth asked with as much enthusiasm as Miss Darcy.

"Le Nozze di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro). The lead Soprano, Angelica Catalani (1) is supposed to be divine."

"I am not familiar with that Opera, I'm afraid. It is by Mozart?"

"Yes, it will be performed in Italian."

Mr Darcy came and sat near his sister and Elizabeth. "Do you know Italian, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I'm afraid my knowledge of Italian is limited, Mr Darcy. But I know enough; I will get by."

"I would be happy to translate for you, Miss Elizabeth." Mr Darcy's low voice was infused with warm intensity, his gaze constant. "There is an aria in Act Two that is very beautiful. It would be a shame for you to miss it's full meaning."

Elizabeth stared breathlessly at Mr Darcy. "I look forward to it."

Mr Darcy smiled, a secret light in his eyes. "As am I."

A/N: Anybody know which aria Mr Darcy is referring to? If you do, that should give you a taste of what's to come :) **Please review** to feed my muse!

(1) Angelica Catalani, was an Italian Soprano who came to England in 1806 and was an instant success. She played Susanna in the very first London production of The Marriage of Figaro in 1812. Convenient for my story, no?


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 11

A feeling of anticipation and excitement hung in the air at the Gardiner Townhouse the next day. In addition to a feeling of excitement, Elizabeth also felt a certain expectation. Something had changed between her and Mr Darcy the day before. Their brief moment in the garden when Mr Darcy had dropped all pretense and shown her who he was had created an indelible connection between them. Although she couldn't adequately explain what had happened, it had become the most significant moment of her life thus far. And when he had whispered her name... she blushed and smiled at the way it made her feel to hear him call her by her Christian name. She had never felt so emotionally connected to another human being. She hadn't even shared that incredible moment with her Aunt or even Jane, in whom she usually confided everything. Talking of it would lessen the significance of the moment, make it ordinary. That moment would remain between her and Mr Darcy.

"You must be thinking pleasant thoughts, Lizzy." Jane's quiet voice broke her reverie. "And judging by the blush on your cheeks, I think I know of whom you are thinking."

Elizabeth smiled and looked up at her sister. She currently sat in front of the open window of her bedroom, her long, damp tresses hanging down her back. Jane was standing behind her, painstakingly drying each curl. The combination of the warm sun, cool breeze and Jane's gentle ministrations had left her feeling completely relaxed.

Without pretense, Elizabeth admitted, "Yes, I was thinking of Mr Darcy."

Jane smiled. "Are you nervous about tonight, Lizzy?

"Why would I be? Elizabeth felt a lot of things, but nervousness was definitely not one of them.

"This is the first time you will be seen in public with Mr Darcy. I would be nervous with all those people staring at me, judging me."

That thought had not even crossed Elizabeth's mind. So much had occurred in...five days? Elizabeth sat up abruptly. Five days? Was it possible that she had seen Mr Darcy less than one week ago? Elizabeth shook her head, incredulous.

"Lizzy, what is it?" When Elizabeth didn't respond, she shook Elizabeth's head gently to get her attention. "Lizzy?"

"I saw Mr Darcy only five days ago, Jane."

Jane moved to stand in front of her sister. "Yes, last Thursday. At Sir Reginald's ball."

Elizabeth looked at her sister. "I just find it incredible that so little time has passed, but so much has happened."

Jane smiled gently at her baffled sister. "Yes, but does it really matter if you've known Mr Darcy for five hours, five days, or five months? Would it lessen what you feel for that gentleman?"

"I don't know what I feel for Mr Darcy, Jane. I just know that I want," she shook her head, "No, I _need_ to find out."

Jane moved back to her original position behind her sister and resumed her task. "And find out you shall."

They were silent, each lost in their own thoughts. Elizabeth closed her eyes and leaned her head back. Her thoughts drifted to Sir Reginald. She sighed. What was she going to do about him? She wished he would simply realize that she wasn't interested in him as a suitor. Would she have been interested in Sir Reginald's attentions if Mr Darcy had not come into her life? She pondered that thought for a moment. Her Aunt had observed that she witnessed _something_ between them. If Elizabeth were being completely honest with herself, she had felt something as well. But then she had seen Mr Darcy and whatever _something_ she had felt for Sir Reginald had evaporated as quickly as the sun dispels the morning mist.

"What are you going to do about Sir Reginald, Lizzy?" At her sister's surprised look, Jane laughed. "You were thinking about him just now, weren't you?"

"You know me well, Jane. In truth, I don't know what I am going to do. I hope that my interest in a certain gentlemen will dissuade him from pursuing me."

"Well, men can be rather dense when their affections are engaged. I wouldn't count on Sir Reginald losing interest unless you are forthright with him."

"But are his affections engaged?" Elizabeth was grasping for excuses, but she truly wished that he would bestow his attentions on some other woman.

"Of course they are! It is obvious. I just think you do not realize it because of the intensity of Mr Darcy's affections. Indeed Lizzy, the way that man looks at you is enough to cause any person to blush."

"Jane!" Elizabeth laughed. She could not deny her sister's words. She knew that was why she had a hard time believing Sir Reginald's affections were engaged. Compared to Mr Darcy's marked interest, Sir Reginald's paled in comparison. It was like comparing the pale light of the stars to the brilliance of the sun.

Mrs Gardiner entered the bedroom, carrying a long piece of material, draped carefully over her outstretched arms. She gently placed the garment on the bed and turned to her nieces, excitement dancing in her eyes. "Come, Lizzy. This is for you." She gestured to the garment on the bed.

Elizabeth stood and walked over to her Aunt. "I don't need any more dresses, Aunt. My Uncle and father have been more than generous."

Her Aunt smiled. "This is for your birthday. I know it isn't until September, but I thought you would want to wear it tonight." Carefully, she unwrapped the material protecting the dress. With a smile, she stepped back to allow Elizabeth to see.

Jane gasped. "Oh Lizzy!"

Elizabeth stared, mouth slightly agape. She had never seen a more beautiful dress. It was of deep green silk, with a golden undertone that made the dress shimmer in the light. The bodice was decorated in the most intricate and elaborate design worked in gold thread. It was exquisite. She knew without trying it on, that it would be perfect for her. She had always lamented her darker complexion, but she knew this dress would compliment her skin tone to perfection.

She looked at her Aunt in gratitude. "I don't know what to say, except thank you, Aunt. This is more than I could ever imagine."

Mrs Gardiner smiled. "I knew the minute I saw this fabric in your Uncle's warehouse that it was meant for you. I am very pleased with how it turned out. I have never found a better dressmaker than Madame Cécile. I didn't have to tell her it was for you, Lizzy. She knew, just as I did."

"Oh Lizzy, you will look so beautiful! Mr Darcy won't be able to take his eyes off you!" Jane stood next to her sister, gazing in awe at the dress.

Aunt Gardiner laughed. "Indeed, I have to agree Jane. I admit I can't wait to see Mr Darcy's face when he sees you."

Elizabeth did not consider herself to be a vain person; she knew she was no great beauty. But she couldn't help but wonder what Mr Darcy would think of her in this dress. She wanted him to think her beautiful, desirable even.

"I have some lovely gold combs that will look beautiful in your dark locks, Lizzy." Her Aunt gently fingered Elizabeth's loose curls. She sighed. "You have the most beautiful hair. It is such a shame that propriety dictates that you wear it up."

"You mean this unmanageable mess?" Elizabeth fingered a curl and wrinkled her nose. "I have always preferred Jane's hair; it's like a golden, silken waterfall." Elizabeth's tone was wistful.

Jane and Aunt Gardiner exchanged a look. They knew where Elizabeth's sentiment came from. Their mother had always extolled Jane's fair beauty while deriding Elizabeth's dark beauty. Aunt Gardiner shook her head. Gently turning her niece, she looked her in the eye and said, "Elizabeth Bennet, you _are_ beautiful in face, form and especially character. Pay no heed to the lies your mother has told you all these years." Her Aunt gave her a sly grin. "Besides, I don't think Mr Darcy would look at you the way he does if he didn't think you were beautiful."

Elizabeth smiled deprecatingly, "Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye." (1)

Her Aunt shook her head in sadness at her nieces persistence in believing a lie. She was grateful that Elizabeth had two eligible men who were vying for her attention. She knew that it troubled her niece greatly, but she hoped it would show Elizabeth what she was truly worth. There was nothing like being pursued by two very handsome men that raised one's confidence! "Well, in any case, Lizzy, you will be radiant tonight. I almost feel sorry for the other ladies in attendance."

Elizabeth laughed. "Thank you Aunt, but I believe Jane will hold that distinction."

"I am not the woman with two men fighting for her attentions, Lizzy." Jane said with a slight laugh. "Indeed, I am nearly invisible when you are present."

At her sister's statement, Elizabeth searched for any detection of sadness or regret in Jane's expression. She was surprised that Jane had not found any admirers. She was so sure that men would be buzzing around her sister like bees to honey. It just confirmed Elizabeth's opinion that the _ton_ lacked good sense and intelligence. If they couldn't see the rare gem that was her sister, then it just proved that Jane was much too good for the likes of them. "Jane, you will find your match." Elizabeth raised a brow and said teasingly, "what did you think about the Colonel?"

Jane scowled. "That man finds too much pleasure in the discomfort of others."

Elizabeth gazed at her sister in astonishment. She couldn't remember ever seeing such an expression on her sister's face. "What do you mean?"

"Yesterday at tea. He was watching the three of you like you were some spectacle to be gawked at!"

Elizabeth laughed. "That sounds like the Colonel. He just enjoys the ridiculous as much as I do. Indeed, if I hadn't been the cause of the men's behavior, I would have found it extremely diverting. You have to admit Jane, it _was_ quite the spectacle."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I would enjoy it like he did." Jane said in a huff.

Elizabeth exchanged an amused glance with her Aunt. This was very uncharacteristic of Jane to say anything negative about anybody. Especially someone she had just met. "Well, I am sure he didn't mean anything by it. He did try to defuse the situation yesterday. I am grateful to him for that."

Jane nodded her head grudgingly. "I suppose."

Aunt Gardiner said, "Well, it is almost time to finish getting ready girls. I will have cook send up something light for supper." She bid her nieces farewell and left the room.

Elizabeth turned to her sister. "What will you wear tonight?"

"My blue silk," Jane replied distractedly. She gently fingered Elizabeth's green dress. "It is so lovely Lizzy. I agree with our Aunt when I say I can't wait to see the expression on Mr Darcy's face when he sees you!"

"Me too." Elizabeth looked at her sister and they both laughed.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Georgiana knocked on the door of her brother's study. She waited but heard nothing. Knowing he was inside she pressed her ear to the door to detect any movement or sound. Nothing. Normally, she would retreat and try again later, but she had an important question for her brother that could not wait. Undaunted by the silence within the room, she tried the door. It was unlocked so she pushed it open and peered inside. She didn't see her brother at his desk, so she opened the door wider and saw him sitting on the sofa, reading a book.

Quietly she entered, and walked purposefully toward her brother. As she neared him, she paused. Her brother had a book open in his lap, but he was definitely not reading. He was staring off in the distance, his gaze unfocused with a small smile on his face. She smiled in contentment. It was so nice to see her brother happy. Not wanting to startle him, she called softly, "Brother?"

Darcy looked up, his unfocused gaze resting on his sister. "Georgiana?"

She moved to sit across from him. She smiled and said, playfully, "Thinking about Miss Elizabeth again?"

Darcy gave his sister an amused look but ignored her question. "What do I owe the pleasure of your company? I would have thought you would be getting ready for tonight's Opera."

Georgiana waved her hand dismissively. "There is plenty of time yet."

Darcy raised his brows in amusement. This was not the Georgiana who had bounced around the house all morning, telling him how excited she was to attend the Opera. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. She must want something from him. "What do you want, Georgiana?"

Georgiana feigned a look of surprise. "Why, nothing brother. Nothing at all."

Darcy looked at his sister. Her expression was entirely _too_ innocent. Yes, she wanted something. He sighed. "Just ask me Georgiana. No need for you to dissemble. If it is a reasonable request, I will do what I can. You know that."

"Yes, I know."

Georgiana started fidgeting, a sure sign that she was nervous. Darcy waited patiently. When she looked at him, he smiled at her encouragingly.

"Well, I was wondering, that is, if it's alright...?" She took a deep breath. She could do this! She straightened and looked her brother in the eye. "I was hoping to wear Mother's pearls to the Opera tonight." _There, she had said it!_

Darcy stilled. He felt a sudden pang and an ache in the vicinity of his heart. He knew which necklace his sister referred to. His mother had worn them almost every day since they were gifted to her by his father to commemorate their 10th wedding anniversary. He remembered when his father had given them to her...Darcy stopped the memory from taking root. Taking a deep breath, he looked at Georgiana, noticing her sad but hopeful expression. It was selfish of him to deny what rightfully belonged to her. He smiled gently and said, "Of course you may wear Mother's pearls. They belong to you."

Georgiana's face lit up with joy. "Oh, thank you brother!" She gave him an exuberant hug and danced from the room.

Darcy sighed, running his hands through his hair. He picked up his book, opening to where he had left off. He skimmed the page, trying to find his place. After a moment, he tossed the book aside, unable to concentrate. He was stalling and he knew it. He hadn't gone through his mother's jewel case since his father's death. Even then, it had been at the request of the lawyers; they had insisted on an inventory of every piece. He glanced at his wall safe. Bracing himself, he quickly got to his feet and strode purposefully to complete his task. _He could do this!_

He opened the safe, moving aside various documents. He carefully removed Elizabeth's picture; an involuntary grin crossing his face as he beheld her beauty. _Tonight, he would see her tonight._ He smiled in contentment. Putting it aside, he found what he was looking for and gently removed the jewel case. Carrying it in both hands, he brought it to his desk and laid it down. Sitting down, he took a deep breath and opened the case. As he gazed at his mother's jewels, memories assaulted his mind; unbidden, unwelcome. Shaking his head to rid himself of those memories, he methodically sifted through the various items. He found the pearl necklace and quickly removed it. Setting it aside, he closed the case, pushing it away as if it burned his fingers. Picking up the pearl necklace, he noticed a ring was caught on the clasp. Carefully removing the ring, he held it in his hands. He closed his eyes in pain. _Why did it have to be that one?_

Opening his eyes he looked at his Mother's engagement ring; a large square emerald with a delicate gold band. Beautiful in its simplicity. As he gazed at it, he imagined it adorning Elizabeth's slender finger. The simplicity of the design would appeal to her. He knew that Elizabeth would not want anything too gaudy or overdone. And he knew that green was her color. The ring was exquisite, just like his Elizabeth. It would suit her perfectly.

But the thought of seeing his Mother's ring on Elizabeth's hand would be too painful. No, he would get her something else, from him and him alone. A new ring to symbolize a new life, with no painful memories associated with it. He quickly opened the case and placed the ring inside; shutting it with finality.

He checked his watch, noticing it was time to dress. He smiled in anticipation. Placing the jewel case back in his safe, he picked up the pearl necklace and went to find Georgiana.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

A short time later, Darcy, Richard and Georgiana were headed to Covent Garden and the Royal Theatre for the performance of Le Nozze di Figaro. It was silent in the carriage; each occupant lost in their own thoughts.

Darcy was counting the minutes until he could see Elizabeth again. He was looking forward to being in her presence for three hours; sitting beside her, conversing with her. The only flaw in his plan was Lynton. He frowned thinking of that obtuse gentleman. He had always considered Lynton to be a man of intelligence and common sense. But in this particular instance he was lacking both. He sighed. He would have to make it abundantly clear tonight that Elizabeth was not available.

Georgiana was anticipating the evening mostly for the performance. She loved music and any opportunity to experience a performance of this magnitude was of great interest to her. She was also looking forward to seeing Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bennet again. She knew that Miss Elizabeth would be occupied primarily with her brother, but she had no cause to repine. Elizabeth would soon be her sister. She smiled, completely happy and content.

Richard was looking forward to an amusing night and good company, which included two very beautiful women and an extremely clueless gentlemen. He smiled in anticipation. A sudden jostling of the carriage caused him to bump legs with his cousin. Darcy was bouncing his leg again, which he eyed in annoyance.

Darcy rolled his eyes at Richard's pointed look, but ceased his movement. Richard chuckled. "You know Darcy, if we hook you up to the carriage, your added energy could get us there much faster."

"I am just anxious to arrive before Lynton. I want to make sure I am the one to escort Elizabeth, not him."

Richard exchanged a sly look with Georgiana that was not lost on Darcy. He narrowed his eyes, looking back and forth between the two. Georgiana gazed at her brother, a serene smile on her face. Richard on the other hand looked entirely too pleased about something. "What did you do, Richard?"

Richard feigned a hurt expression. "Whatever do you mean, Darcy?"

"Don't play the innocent with me Richard. I know that look. It's the same look you wore when you tried to convince my father it was me who locked his stallion in his study."

Richard rubbed his chin and grinned. "I forgot about that."

Darcy snorted. "That's because you didn't have to clean out that stallion's stall for a month."

Georgiana laughed. Richard shrugged his shoulders and said casually, "Let's just say I ah...delayed Lynton's departure. You won't have to worry about him arriving before you." Richard grinned at his cousin.

Darcy stared at Richard. He couldn't believe he would stoop to something so drastic. Although, he felt a measure of gratitude for his interference, it was mingled with a large helping of guilt. He sighed. "I'll ask again, Richard. What did you do?"

Richard grinned deviously. Ironic that Darcy brought up that incident with his father's stallion in light of what he had done to Lynton's. "Nothing so terrible, cousin. I just ah...improved his horses appearance."

Darcy raised his brows. "Care to elaborate, cousin?"

Nonchalantly, Richard said, "I painted them. Green. Well, just their tails, really."

Georgiana burst out laughing. Darcy stared at Richard incredulously. "Let me get this straight. You painted the tails of _all _Lynton's horses? Green?"

"Yes, I thought it was an appropriate color given that he will be green with envy when he sees you with Miss Elizabeth tonight." Richard smiled smugly at Darcy.

Darcy rubbed his forehead. "Richard, please tell me this _improvement_ isn't permanent."

"Of course not. I'm not that cruel. It's not the horses fault their master is a dense dimwit. Well, when it comes to women anyway."

"Is there any way this can get back to me? Or you?"

Richard shook his head. "Not a chance. Trust me, Darcy. You have nothing to worry about."

Darcy said under his breath, "That's what worries me."

Richard laughed. "Have some faith in me cousin. There is a reason why I got away with so much as a youth."

Darcy sighed, shaking his head, a slight smile on his face. "Well, I guess I should thank you."

Richard grinned. "The pleasure of seeing you happy is thanks enough, cousin." Richard glanced out the window. "Well, we are here. Come, we have lovely ladies to escort, and an unwanted suitor to thwart."

As they filed into the theatre amongst society's finest, Darcy eagerly scanned the crowds for Elizabeth. They had arrived unfashionably early so as not to miss their arrival. Darcy took up post near the entrance so he wouldn't miss her. He also kept an eye out for Lynton. Despite Richard's assurances that he had prevented his arriving early, Darcy wouldn't put it past Lynton to somehow find a way. The man was uncommonly persistent.

"I thought of that, Georgiana. Have some faith in me. I am not entirely heartless, you know." Richard's quiet voice drew Darcy's attention away from watching the steady stream of arrivals.

Darcy turned a questioning look to his sister. "What are you worried about, Georgiana?"

"I am simply afraid that this little prank will cost someone their position." Turning to her cousin, she added, "But if you say no one will, then I trust you."

Richard smiled reassuringly at Georgiana. "No one will. I promise."

Georgiana nodded her head, satisfied. "Then, I have to thank you as well. The idea of _that man_ hovering over Miss Elizabeth makes me so angry!"

"I believe it was your brother who was hovering over Miss Elizabeth yesterday." Richard laughed softly as Darcy scowled.

"You know what I mean. How Sir Reginald cannot see what is between you and Miss Elizabeth is beyond me. Even if I didn't know that you were meant to be together, it is obvious. Even to one as inexperienced as I."

Darcy opened his mouth to respond to his sister when he felt a sudden change in the air. He couldn't explain how, but he _knew_ she was here. Turning slowly, his eyes immediately found her. His breath caught as he beheld her loveliness. She was absolutely radiant. As he took in her appearance, he smiled in satisfaction. He was right, green _was_ her color. As he moved to meet her, she suddenly looked up and their eyes met. Time seemed to slow and he was aware of nothing and no one but her. Her eyes widened slightly and she smiled, her eyes lit with a soft, secret glow meant only for him; a faint blush coloring her face. He quickly closed the distance between them. Standing in front of her, he bowed, taking her gloved hand and bestowed a kiss, gently squeezing her hand before letting go.

Elizabeth curtsied and blushed as he kissed her hand. She met his eyes and her blush deepened at the open admiration evident in his intense blue eyes. "Good evening, Mr Darcy," she said softly.

"Good evening, Miss Elizabeth." His eyes drank in her beautiful features, lingering briefly on her lips before meeting her luminous eyes. Leaning slightly toward her, he lowered his voice and said, "You are beautiful."

Elizabeth glowed at his compliment. "Thank you, Mr Darcy."

Remembering that she was not alone, Darcy turned and greeted her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner and sister, before returning his attention to Elizabeth. Wordlessly, he offered her his arm and felt a thrill of pride as she wrapped her small hand around his arm. He drew her closer by bringing his arm close to his side. Smiling down at her, he led her to Georgiana and Richard; her family following behind.

Elizabeth exchanged greetings with Miss Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. When Georgiana asked if she was looking forward to the performance, she unconsciously glanced up at Mr Darcy, holding his gaze as she answered. "Yes, I am. Very much."

Georgiana and Richard exchanged amused glances. Richard extended his arm to Georgiana and turned to offer his other arm to Miss Bennet. "Well, shall we find our seats?"

Mrs Gardiner looked around in confusion. "Where is Sir Reginald?"

Richard fixed an innocent expression on his face as he said, "Maybe he was delayed? He'll find us I'm sure."

"I can have my footman keep an eye out for him." Darcy offered.

"No need. I am here." Sir Reginald approached, slightly out of breath with an agitated look in his eyes. He greeted the party and turning to Elizabeth, said, "Forgive me for my late arrival, Miss Elizabeth." He eyed her arm in Darcy's and frowned. "I had hoped to escort you."

Elizabeth smiled sweetly at Sir Reginald. "No need, Sir Reginald. As you see I have found an escort."

Lynton frowned. Of all the days to have something go terribly wrong. When he caught those ruffians who had painted his horses, he would show no mercy. Deciding on a new tactic, he turned his attention to Elizabeth's sister. Perhaps if Miss Bennet thought well of him, she would be an advocate on his behalf. Turning to Richard, he said jokingly, "It doesn't seem fair that you have two lovely ladies to escort, Colonel. I would be pleased if Miss Bennet would do me the honor of escorting her to her seat." He smiled at Elizabeth's older sister.

Jane smiled and serenely said, "It would be a pleasure, Sir Reginald. I thank you."

As the couples moved towards the stairs that led to the box seats, Elizabeth held back Mr Darcy so Jane and Sir Reginald would precede them into the box. Mr Darcy gave her a perplexed look, but she just smiled. He raised his brows, but said nothing; following her lead. Elizabeth wanted to ensure she did not end up seated between the two gentlemen, each vying for her attentions. She was hoping her marked attentions to Mr Darcy would not go unnoticed by Sir Reginald.

As she entered the box, she saw Sir Reginald had led her sister to the far right seat on the front row, closest to the stage. Sir Reginald turned and smiled brightly at her, glancing at the seat to his left, indicating where he would like her to sit. Ignoring Sir Reginald's pointed look, she took the seat behind her sister, which placed Mr Darcy directly behind Sir Reginald.

Darcy, realizing Elizabeth's intent to sit away from Sir Reginald turned to her with a smile. Leaning towards her, he quietly said, "I have always preferred the second row. It offers more privacy, don't you agree?"

Elizabeth met his gaze and smiled. "Yes, I would have to agree." Elizabeth was vaguely aware that her Aunt and Uncle took the seats next to Mr Darcy, which left the remaining front row seats for the Colonel and Miss Darcy. "Would you tell me about tonight's Opera, Mr Darcy?"

"It would be my pleasure, Miss Elizabeth." Darcy described the different characters and gave her a brief summary of the Opera. He watched in pleasure as her eyes danced with mirth as he described the more humorous moments. If she was this excited about his inadequate and incomplete summary, he couldn't wait until he watched her experience it firsthand.

Elizabeth smiled and with a slight blush asked, "And this aria you mentioned in Act Two? When does it occur?"

Darcy looked deeply in Elizabeth's eyes and said simply, "you will know."

A servant entered to extinguish a few lights in their box, in preparation for the performance. Elizabeth glanced up as half the lights in the wall sconce were extinguished, throwing their box into semi-darkness. Elizabeth felt her heart rate speed up, acutely aware of Mr Darcy's close proximity. As the beginning strains of the overture began, Elizabeth forced herself to relax. She took deep, slow breaths to steady her breathing. As the Opera began, Elizabeth leaned slightly forward, not wanting to miss anything.

Darcy was grateful to be sitting to the left of Elizabeth as it offered him the perfect opportunity to watch her without being obvious. He watched in fascination at the various emotions passing across her face. He smiled in pleasure as she laughed out loud in delight at the antics of Cherubino hiding from the Count, while the Count hid from Basilio towards the end of Act One. Occasionally she would turn to him and ask him to clarify what was being said. As Act One ended, Darcy straightened in anticipation for the Second Act and the Aria that would explain what he felt. Would she understand what he was trying to convey?

Elizabeth felt a growing anticipation as Act Two began. She felt Mr Darcy shift beside her, drawing slightly closer. She turned her head and felt her breath catch in her throat at his nearness, merely inches away. She turned back to the stage, trying to compose herself. She stared unseeing as the performance played out before her. Two beautiful arias were sung, but she was not aware of anything but him. As the strains for the third aria began, she felt Mr Darcy lean closer. His breath tickled the small curls at the nape of her neck, sending shivers coursing down her spine. As he began to whisper the words of the aria, she closed her eyes to focus solely on his voice and the words he was whispering near her ear.

_You who know what love is,_

_Lady, (2) see whether it is in my heart_

_What I am experiencing I will tell you,_

Mr Darcy's voice was like a caress, low and intimate as he translated the words of the aria. Elizabeth felt her heart increase and her breathing become erratic. All her senses were heightened, but she felt frozen in her seat, unable to move as the meaning of the words penetrated her heart and mind.

_It is new to me and I do not understand it._

_I have a feeling full of desire,_

_That now, is both pleasure and suffering._

_At first frost, then I feel the soul burning,_

_And in a moment I'm freezing again._

_Seek a blessing outside myself,_

_I do not know how to hold it, I do not know what it is._

_I sigh and moan without meaning to,_

_Throb and tremble without knowing,_

Elizabeth was unable to withhold a slight gasp from escaping her lips. Unconsciously she leaned closer to Mr Darcy, basking in the warmth of his presence.

_I find no peace both night or day,_

_But even still, I like to languish._

_You who know what love is,_

_Lady, see whether it is in my heart._

Elizabeth,_see _what_it is in my heart. (3)_

She barely caught his low voice, whisper her name. He was pleading, inviting her to see into his heart. Elizabeth stilled, blocking out all sound but the irregular breathing of Mr Darcy, matched closely by her own. With her eyes closed she searched her heart. _Could she do it?_ Gathering her courage she turned her head and met Mr Darcy's gaze, trembling at the tenderness and affection so clearly displayed in his blue eyes. She felt the protective walls she had built around her heart slowly crumble as she showed him her all her insecurities, her fear and above all, her hope of the future. As she held his gaze, she felt the connection between them grow until it was almost tangible. Her eyes filled with tears as the raw emotion displayed in his eyes mirrored perfectly what she feeling. Her heart felt like it was on fire, spreading warmth throughout her body. And in that moment she _knew_. This man was her future.

A/N: Well, there you have it! Congrats to those who guessed the correct Aria. It is Voi, che sapete. Elizabeth sings the English version (which does not even come close to the beauty of the original) when she is at Pemberley in the 1995 BBC production. There were several different translations out there of the lyrics; I chose the one I liked best (they were all very similar).

(1) Love's Labour's Lost, Act II, Scene I

(2) The translation is actually Ladies or Women, but I changed it. More appropriate for Darcy to refer to one lady, instead of several.

(3) Forgive the liberties taken with the lyrics. Artistic license, and all that.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 12

Darcy was not aware of the performance being played out on stage or of anyone around him; he saw only Elizabeth. His heart swelled with hope and joy at the trust he saw in her eyes, the emotions so eloquently displayed for him to see. He wanted nothing more than to love, honor and protect her for the rest of his life. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears and he watched in awe as he witnessed the moment she _knew_ as he did, that they were meant to be together. "_Elizabeth_." Her name fell from his lips like a caress, infused with wonder, joy and hope. She gasped softly, tears falling down her cheeks. _His _Elizabeth. He had always referred to her as such, but in this perfect moment when their souls were connected by an indelible bond she was his and he was hers. Unconsciously, his hand reached out to wipe the tears from her face. Before he could touch her, a throat cleared loudly next to him and his chair was kicked lightly.

Startled, he turned to see Mr Gardiner glaring at him, forcing him back to reality. He straightened in his chair, placing some distance between himself and Elizabeth. How could he forget himself? He was in the middle of a crowed theatre, inches from her family! He took a deep breath, glancing at Elizabeth who was subtly wiping the tears from her face. Gently, he placed a handkerchief in her hand. He didn't dare bestow any lingering caress as he longed to do, not with her Uncle burning a hole in the side of his head. He tried to focus his attention on the performance, but his gaze kept straying back to her face. He watched as she took deep, steady breaths, her chest rising and falling with each breath. He watched her, captivated until he heard Mr Gardiner clear his throat again, more loudly.

Elizabeth turned her head, giving Darcy a puzzled look. He shook his head slightly and smiled. She then looked past him at her Uncle. Whatever she saw on Mr Gardiners face caused her eyes to widen and she quickly looked down. He suspected that she was blushing. Darcy took a deep breath. He would have to find a way to explain to Mr Gardiner his intentions towards his niece. And soon. He didn't want anything to come between them, most especially her guardian.

Darcy dropped all pretense of watching the Opera. He fixed his gaze in the direction of the stage, but he saw nothing but her. He was acutely aware of every movement Elizabeth made. He couldn't bear to tear his eyes away from her. He knew by her distracted air that she was not aware of what was occurring on stage any more than he was. He smiled in contentment. A part of him never wanted the Opera to end, afraid that once the performance was over, what had passed between them would end as abruptly as a candle being extinguished.

The end of Act Two ended with an ensemble, but Elizabeth was at a loss as to what it was all about. She had lost her concentration long ago. As the performers left the stage, she glanced out the corner of her eye at Mr Darcy. He was looking towards her, although she couldn't tell if he was watching her or the stage. A servant entered to re-light the candles, signaling the start of intermission. As people began to rise from their seats and make their way to the reception hall of the theatre for refreshments, she turned toward Mr Darcy with a smile, suddenly unsure. Had she imagined everything that had passed between them? With doubts clouding her mind, she met his gaze. Immediately any misgivings she harbored fled at the look in his eyes. No, she hadn't imagined it. As they gazed at each other with new understanding, her attention was suddenly diverted by Sir Reginald who had risen from his seat and turned to address her. She looked at him stupidly. Had he said something?

Seeing her confused expression, he repeated his request. "May I escort you to obtain some refreshment, Miss Elizabeth?" He smiled brightly.

Elizabeth looked at Sir Reginald in shock. She quickly looked at her sister, who was blushing in mortification. Did Sir Reginald just slight her sister in order to escort her? The nerve of the man! Elizabeth opened her mouth to express her displeasure, when Mr Darcy averted her reprimand by asking Jane to accompany him. She looked at him in gratitude. Mr Darcy smiled at her before offering Jane his arm. As Mr Darcy passed Sir Reginald she saw him lean in and say something in a low voice, watching in satisfaction as Sir Reginald flushed a bright crimson. Mr Darcy met her eyes before leaving the box with her sister, followed by the Colonel and Miss Darcy.

Elizabeth stood and faced Sir Reginald, who was still a bright red. She simply raised one eyebrow and waited.

Observing Elizabeth's serious expression, he stumbled through a profuse apology for his ungentlemanly actions. "I meant no disrespect to your sister, Miss Elizabeth. Please believe me. I noticed your distress during the last act and thought that Mr Darcy had upset you. I thought only to intervene on your behalf."

Elizabeth was taken aback. Why must this man always witness the most private moments between her and Mr Darcy? "You thought wrong, Sir Reginald. I was in tears, but that does not mean I was upset. I was moved by the beautiful music."

Nonplussed, he said, "Then forgive me, Miss Elizabeth, for my presumption."

Elizabeth sighed. "I am not the one in need of your apology, Sir Reginald."

"I will of course make amends to your sister."

"And Mr Darcy."

Sir Reginald stared at Elizabeth in confusion. "Mr Darcy?"

"Yes, for depriving him of my company, and believing that he could ever upset me." Elizabeth looked at Sir Reginald, forcing him to see the meaning behind her words.

Sir Reginald looked down as he mumbled, "Of course." He took a deep breath and offered his arm to Elizabeth, with a small smile. "Shall we join the others?"

Elizabeth nodded, taking his arm. She made sure there was some distance between them as he escorted her out of Mr Darcy's box. Her Aunt gave her a sympathetic look as she passed. She avoided the gaze of her Uncle, embarrassed that he had witnessed Mr Darcy sit closer to her than propriety allowed. She knew he would want to talk to her, soon.

They made their way down the stairs in silence. As they reached the reception room where refreshments were laid out, Elizabeth eagerly scanned the crowd for any sign of the others in their party. Sir Reginald was silent, a contemplative look on his face. She spied Mr Darcy some distance away, grateful his imposing height allowed him to be easily spotted in a roomful of people. She indicated to her companion the location of their party and wordlessly he steered her in their direction. As they weaved through the crowd she caught snatches of people's conversation, realizing that they all seemed to be discussing the same thing. As she passed a group of people, she heard Mr Darcy's name, causing her to stop in surprise. She tired not to appear as if she were listening, but she couldn't prevent it as the woman was speaking rather loudly.

"...certainly not in Mr Darcy's class, although she is very beautiful. But if he likes fair women, there are plenty to choose from his own social circle. No need to shop amongst the cows." The other women tittered at the young woman's audacity.

They were talking about Mr Darcy and Jane! Elizabeth didn't know whether to be amused or offended. Not in Mr Darcy's social class, indeed! She was a gentleman's daughter, he was a gentleman.

Sir Reginald looked askance at Elizabeth to observe her reaction to the gossip of Mr Darcy and her sister. Noticing that she seemed slightly distressed, he quietly said, "Don't pay any heed to them, Miss Elizabeth."

"I'm not."

Sir Reginald raised his brows, unconvinced of her indifference. "The _ton_ loves nothing more than gossip and any gossip about Darcy is gold."

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth looked at Sir Reginald in confusion.

"Simply that there is nothing about Darcy to gossip about. The man is a mystery to the majority of society. He goes no where, sees no one. He is at his estate for more than ten months out of the year. And suddenly he is attending social events during the _season_." Sir Reginald looked at Elizabeth pointedly, "And for the very first time, he has shown interest in someone."

Elizabeth blushed, but teasingly said, "You mean, Jane?"

Sir Reginald smiled sadly, "I'm sure they'll realize their mistake, soon enough." He deftly steered her through the throng toward their party.

Elizabeth didn't know what to say. She was grateful that Sir Reginald seemed to understand that her affections lay elsewhere, but she did not like to see that look of sadness and resignation on his face. Especially since she had been the cause. If only he could find his match as she had found hers. She felt someone's gaze and looked up to meet Mr Darcy's intense blue eyes.

Sir Reginald looked back and forth between Elizabeth and Darcy as their gazes remained fixed on each other. He sighed. Excusing himself, he made his way over to Miss Bennet to apologize.

Mr Darcy watched Sir Reginald leave, a displeased look on his face.

Elizabeth, noticing the direction of Mr Darcy's gaze said, "He's going to apologize."

"I should hope so. His behavior towards your sister was unacceptable."

Elizabeth sighed. "He was intervening on my behalf." Mr Darcy looked at her in surprise. Elizabeth blushed slightly, "He noticed my tears and thought you were causing me distress."

Mr Darcy moved closer and in a low voice, asked, "Was I causing you distress?"

Elizabeth met his gaze and said softly, "You know you were not." Wordlessly, they gazed at each other, lost in the myriad of emotions they were both feeling. Elizabeth, feeling overcome with the intensity of her emotions looked away. She noticed those around them were watching with keen interest and several people were whispering to each other, glancing in their direction. She straightened and turned away, embarrassed her feelings for Mr Darcy had been observed by others.

Noticing Elizabeth's sudden change in demeanor, Darcy turned and observed the interest they were generating by those near them. He frowned. Why couldn't they just mind their own business? He glanced at Elizabeth and said softly, "Don't mind them, Elizabeth. I'm afraid the _ton_ is entirely too fascinated with me."

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, Sir Reginald informed me of that."

At the mention of that gentleman, Darcy's countenance darkened. "Did he?"

Seeing Mr Darcy's forbidding expression, she quickly explained what she had overheard.

Darcy looked at Elizabeth in consternation. "I am sorry you had to hear that, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth smiled softly, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "It is not your fault, Mr Darcy. I only hope Jane doesn't hear of it. She is very sensitive to gossip, and to know that she is the object of it?" Elizabeth shook her head, "It will distress her."

Mr Darcy sighed. "It will die down, when they see there is nothing to support it."

"Sir Reginald said that as well." Elizabeth said softly.

Mr Darcy looked at Elizabeth, his gaze softening. "I only wish to know if what you heard distresses you."

With a raised brow, she said teasingly, "Why should it?"

Mr Darcy slowly smiled, and in a low voice said, "Why indeed?"

Elizabeth held his gaze until the Colonel and Miss Darcy approached. Miss Darcy asked her how she liked the Opera thus far. While they were conversing, she noticed the Colonel speak quietly to Mr Darcy. She watched in concern as Mr Darcy's expression darkened and he responded angrily to his cousin.

Georgiana, noticing Elizabeth's concerned expression asked her what was wrong. "The Colonel said something to upset your brother."

Georgiana laughed. "That is nothing new. Richard delights in vexing my brother."

Before Elizabeth could respond, the Colonel turned and addressed her. "May I escort you back to your seat, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth tried to hide her surprise and feeling of disappointment. The Colonel, noticing her dismay, smiled and said quietly, "To thwart the gossips."

"Ah, I understand." Elizabeth's eyes twinkled as she looked at Mr Darcy, "What would they say to see you escorting two different women in the course of an hour?"

Mr Darcy sighed in frustration. Looking at Elizabeth, he said, "I wish it were otherwise, but I think my cousin is right." Darcy directed an annoyed look at Richard, "He thinks that it will confuse them if they see me escorting my sister instead of you or Miss Bennet, as they expect."

Elizabeth shook her head in amusement, "It is all rather ridiculous. But I would hate to cause trouble." She looked at Mr Darcy with a soft expression. "I know how you value your privacy and to be the cause of their gossip must pain you exceedingly." She smiled brightly at the Colonel, "So lead on, Colonel."

Darcy stared at Elizabeth in wonder. She was concerned for him? When Richard suggested that he escort his sister, instead of Elizabeth, his initial reaction had been anger. He had escorted her before the Opera began, why should he not escort her again? Richard had calmly explained that since he was under such scrutiny, every move he made would have repercussions. His escorting Elizabeth at the beginning of the Opera had gone all but unnoticed, but not so when he escorted Elizabeth's sister. Richard had said the room had been buzzing with speculation about the nature of his relationship with Miss Bennet. Especially since he had never before been seen in the company of a woman not of his family. He had agreed with Richard that this would protect Elizabeth and her sister from unwanted gossip. Although he was ready to declare his intentions to society, he knew it was too soon. Courting Elizabeth away from the prying eyes of the _ton_ would be better. But none of that had even occurred to his Elizabeth, she was worried only about him!

As Elizabeth moved away on the arm of his cousin, Darcy quickly followed with his sister. In the crush of people making their way back to their seats, he couldn't refrain from reaching out and lightly pressing his hand to the small of Elizabeth's back possessively. He felt her immediate reaction as she jumped slightly in surprise, followed by a quick intake of breath. His cousin inquired if she was well and her breathless response left Darcy smiling in satisfaction.

Elizabeth forced herself to take even breaths. She could feel the heat of Mr Darcy's hand through the silk of her gown. As they made their way through the crush of people, his hand remained pressed against the small of her back. He began to lightly draw circles with his thumb causing tingles to race up and down her spine. As they exited the reception room and the crowd dispersed, Mr Darcy's hand dropped away. Elizabeth immediately regretted the loss of contact, and she blushed at the thought.

A dazed Elizabeth was escorted into the box and she vaguely noticed Sir Reginald and her sister conversing with her Aunt and Uncle and she spoke a few words in greeting. Her sister looked at her with a puzzled expression, but Elizabeth was not in the state of mind to discern the cause. Mr Darcy and Miss Darcy entered the box and there was some discussion of where everyone should sit during the second half of the Opera. Jane was adamant that Elizabeth sit on the front row in her previous seat, so she could have a much better experience by sitting nearer the stage. Elizabeth blushed at the inaccuracy of her sister's statement. Her sister couldn't possibly know that her experience thus far had been life changing. She glanced up, meeting Mr Darcy's gaze and her blush deepened.

Mr and Mrs Gardiner refused to take seats in the front row and were quite content to remain where they were. Judging by the look in her Uncle's eye, she surmised that he wanted to keep an eye on the gentlemen and sitting in the second row afforded a better view to do so. Elizabeth was led to Jane's previous seat in the front row, the Colonel beside her. She was surprised when Jane and Sir Reginald took the seats next to her and the Colonel, which placed Mr Darcy in his original seat behind the Colonel, Miss Darcy beside him.

The second half of the Opera began, but Elizabeth was not able to concentrate on the performance. Her gaze was fixed on the stage, but she took in nothing. Her entire being was attuned to the man behind her. She was aware of every movement he made, every breath he took. She could feel his gaze burning into her and she had to force herself not to turn and look at him. Finally, the Opera ended and she breathed a sigh of relief. She turned to the Colonel and was surprised to see a look of amusement on his face. She looked at him in bewilderment.

Richard leaned towards Elizabeth and said quietly, "I don't believe you or Darcy were paying any attention to the performance."

Elizabeth laughed lightly, trying unsuccessfully to act nonchalant as a traitorous blush crept up her face.

The Colonel smiled at her knowingly and winked. "I am sorry you had to put up with me, Miss Elizabeth." Seeing her look of surprise, he added, "Darcy knows that the _ton_ is much too interested in his life as they find he is rather...enigmatic. He simply wants to protect you as much as possible from the gossip that is sure to come from being in his company."

Elizabeth was contemplative as she took in the Colonel's words. Recalling the derogative statement of the young woman who said Mr Darcy didn't need to shop amongst the cows to find a wife, Elizabeth face paled in realization. "It is because he thinks I am beneath him."

Richard looked at Elizabeth in horror, aghast that his words could have been misinterpreted. "No! No, not at all. Miss Elizabeth, don't accuse Darcy of something other's have said. It is _not_ true." Richard looked at Elizabeth with a significant look. "And you know it."

Elizabeth took a deep breath. It was so easy to allow her insecurities to surface, for doubts to cloud her mind and color her judgment. "You are right, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Of course."

Richard searched Elizabeth's face and was satisfied with what he saw. _Darcy still has some work to do,_ he thought idly.

Elizabeth stood and immediately noticed Mr Darcy conversing with her Uncle, who wore a serious expression on his face as he listened to Mr Darcy. _How strange_. What could Mr Darcy have to say to my Uncle? Sensing her gaze, her Uncle looked up and smiled. He and Mr Darcy stood, shaking hands and heard her Uncle say, "until tomorrow, Mr Darcy." She glanced at Mr Darcy with a questioning look, which he returned with a smile and a light in his eyes that she found mesmerizing.

As Elizabeth filed out of the box with the others and made their way to the foyer, Mr Darcy leaned in and whispered something to the Colonel. He gave Mr Darcy an amused look but said nothing. What was going on? _Enigmatic indeed_, she huffed.

When they reached the foyer, the Colonel excused himself and left. Sir Reginald said his farewells to Mr and Mrs Gardiner and Miss Darcy, before thanking Mr Darcy for the invitation. He spoke a few words to Jane, kissing her hand before turning to her. "I hope that you had a pleasant evening, Miss Elizabeth."

"I did, thank you, Sir Reginald. I hope you did as well."

Sir Reginald looked at her for a moment before replying. "It was...enlightening." He smiled, giving her a bow, raising her hand and bestowing a light kiss. "Good evening, Miss Elizabeth."

"Good evening." Elizabeth watched him walk away until a servant approached with their wraps. As Elizabeth reached for hers, Mr Darcy prevented her by taking it instead. She looked at him in surprise. He simply waited. Realizing his intention she wordlessly turned around and Mr Darcy placed her cloak around her shoulders, his fingers lightly brushing the sides of her neck. She shivered slightly. Turning back around, she met his gaze and said softly, "Thank you."

Mr Darcy said nothing but turned and assisted his sister. The Colonel returned, a gleeful light in his eyes, announcing that their carriages were ready. Offering his arm to Elizabeth, he escorted her outside. As they exited the theatre, there was some commotion near one of the carriages as a great number of people were congregating near it. As everyone made their way towards the crowd, Elizabeth stopped in astonishment. She leaned over and asked Miss Darcy, "Is it just me, or do those horses appear to have a slightly greenish hue to their tails?"

Miss Darcy tried to hide her mirth as she responded, "It could merely be due to the light from the torches that caused them to look green." Her composure failed as she dissolved into giggles.

Elizabeth turned to see what the others made of it. She immediately noticed the Colonel was trying desperately not to laugh. The expression on the faces of the others ranged from incredulity to shock. Mr Darcy's lips twitched, but otherwise his face remained impassive.

She heard many in the crowd exclaim that it was a 'capital idea' to paint ones horses' tails. She even heard one gentlemen lament to his companion why he hadn't thought of it before. Elizabeth was astonished. "Whose horses are they?" she asked to no one in particular. No sooner had she voiced her question then Sir Reginald appeared and entered the carriage. Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise.

Jane came up beside her and said disbelievingly, "Who would have thought Sir Reginald would be so fanciful? What could he mean by it?"

The Colonel said with a laugh, "Why, Miss Bennet, don't you realize that Lynton is a leader of the _ton_? He is merely setting a trend. Tomorrow there will be dozens of horses who have painted tails. You'll see." With a laugh and a wink, he led Elizabeth to the Gardiner's carriage.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Late that night, Elizabeth lay in bed, Jane beside her. The two sisters had often shared a bed in the past, as it made it easier for their late night talks. Their conversation had begun with their observations and thoughts of the Opera; how much they enjoyed the music and the performance. Elizabeth felt slightly guilty that she had to prevaricate so her sister was not aware that she didn't take in anything beyond what occurred in the First Act. Her mind had been much more agreeably engaged. Elizabeth blushed slightly.

Her sister's distraction did not go unnoticed by Jane and she bluntly asked, "What happened between you and Mr Darcy tonight, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth was silent for a moment before responding. "What do you mean?"

Jane propped herself up on an elbow so she could better see her sister in the pale moonlight streaming through the window. "Don't hedge, Lizzy. You were acting very peculiar tonight. Don't think I didn't notice."

Elizabeth sighed. How could she put into words what had happened between her and Mr Darcy? Did she want to? That moment between them had been...indescribable. She wanted to keep it between them; speaking of it seemed almost sacrilegious.

Jane watched the conflicting emotions pass across her sisters face, and decided to ask an easier question. "Do you think Sir Reginald will continue to pursue you after tonight."

Without hesitation, Elizabeth answered. "No."

"How can you be sure?"

Elizabeth sighed, turning on her side to face her sister. "After you left with Mr Darcy, I hinted that my affections lay elsewhere."

Jane looked in surprise at her sister. "And he understood your meaning?"

Remembering the sadness and resignation in Sir Reginald's eyes, she nodded, "Yes, he did."

"You are happy about that?" Jane asked hesitantly, picking up on the sadness in her sister's voice.

Rolling onto her back, Elizabeth said, "Yes. I am glad that he knows my affections lie elsewhere, but I am sorry to cause pain to anyone. I never asked for it."

"He knows, Lizzy. Besides, your acquaintance is of such a short duration he can't feel it too keenly."

"That is true." Elizabeth was silent, her mind reliving the events of the evening. She analyzed every look, every emotion that she had felt and seen displayed in Mr Darcy's eyes. And that moment, that moment when she had known with certainty that Mr Darcy was her future. As her mind wrapped around that thought, she finally grasped what that certainty, that sure knowledge really meant. "I'm going to marry Mr Darcy." She whispered in awe. Not realizing that Jane was still awake, she was startled when her sister suddenly sat up.

Jane exclaimed in equal parts excitement and disbelief. "What? What did you say, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth slightly groaned. "Nothing, Jane. It was nothing."

Jane reached over to her sister, forcing her to sit up. At Elizabeth's protest, she said, "I need to see your face, Lizzy." When Elizabeth was facing her sister, Jane asked in astonishment, "Did Mr Darcy declare himself?"

How could she answer that? Had he declared himself? As she thought about the words of the Aria he had whispered so intimately in her ear; words of desire and love, asking her to look in his heart. She knew he was speaking those words to her. But the words had paled in comparison to the emotion displayed in his eyes, the connection that had been between them. Yes, in a way he _had_ declared himself. And so had she.

Jane saw her answer clearly in Elizabeth's eyes and she knew. In wonder, she whispered, "He did. Lizzy!"

Elizabeth looked at her sister. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears, overcome with all she had experienced that evening. How could her life change so significantly? Was it really that easy? "I suppose he did, in a way."

Jane looked confused. "Be clear, Lizzy. He did, or he didn't."

"He did." Elizabeth looked at her sister in wonder. "Jane, he did."

Jane laughed, exultantly. "Well, he doesn't waste any time." Turning serious, she took her sister's hand and said, "But Lizzy, what do you feel for the gentleman? Do you return his regard?"

Elizabeth looked at her sister, her dearest friend and confidant. If anyone would understand, it would be her dear Jane. "Do you recall me telling you that my heart was telling me one thing, but my mind another?"

Jane nodded her head, "Yes, you said you needed time for the two to be in accord."

Elizabeth nodded. "My mind is telling me that I don't even know him. I have spent only a handful of hours in his presence, Jane! How can I know he is the one for me? But on the other hand, my heart whispers he is meant for me; that he is the other half of my soul. I know this, Jane. Don't ask me how. But I _know_." Elizabeth looked earnestly at her sister, hoping to make her understand.

Jane's eyes filled with tears, and she reached out to envelop her sister in an embrace. "Oh Lizzy! No one deserves such happiness more than you." She released her sister, gently wiping the tears from her eyes. "You will have time to become acquainted with Mr Darcy. That is the purpose of a courtship after all. I imagine he is coming tomorrow to speak with our Uncle?" Jane looked at her sister with a mischievous smile.

"How do you know, Jane?" Elizabeth looked at her sister in surprise. "I heard our Uncle say he would see Mr Darcy tomorrow, but about what, I can't imagine."

Jane stared at her sister, incredulously. "Lizzy, for someone so clever, you are being deliberately obtuse!"

"I am not!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "I have no idea why Mr Darcy would want to see my Uncle. I can't imagine they have any business dealings to discuss. I don't think they are more than passing acquaintances..." Elizabeth voice trailed off as a thought came into her head so obvious, she couldn't believe she didn't see it before. Could Mr Darcy be coming to talk to her Uncle about her?

Jane laughed at the look on her sister's face. "Now, do you understand?"

Hesitantly, Elizabeth asked, "Do you think he is coming to ask Uncle permission to..to.."

"Court you?" Jane offered with a smile. "Yes, of course! What else?" Jane gave her sister a sly look, "We'll have to make sure you look your best tomorrow when Mr Darcy comes to call. Although, I believe you could wear rags and he would not care one bit; he would still think you beautiful."

Elizabeth laughed, her heart light. With a raised brow, she said teasingly, "He might not if I had dark circles under my eyes and fell asleep during our conversation!"

Jane laughed as Elizabeth laid back down, bidding her sister a goodnight.

Jane reached over and gently touched her arm, "Good night, Lizzy. All will be well. You'll see."

Yes, all will be well. Elizabeth smiled and slowly drifted off to sleep.

A/N: Poor Sir Reginald. I couldn't help but add insult to injury with another reference to his poor horses. But I softened the blow by not making him a source of ridicule but an object of emulation - setting a trend and all that! :) But this is not the last you will see of him, he'll pop up again. And no, he is not a villain.

I also want to briefly address Elizabeth's parentage. There have been many who have speculated that Elizabeth is the illegitimate daughter of Mr Bennet or Mrs Bennet. Without giving anything away, I will say this: Elizabeth is NOT illegitimate. I admit that thought did cross my mind for about 2 seconds, but discarded it immediately as it was too obvious. I want to keep you all guessing. ;)

Please review!


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 13

The pale light of dawn filtering through the parted curtains awoke Elizabeth the next morning. She lay quietly with her eyes closed listening to the steady, even breathing of her sister. As the room gradually brightened with the rising sun, she opened her eyes and stretched lightly. Her mind immediately drifted to thoughts of Mr Darcy and his meeting with her Uncle that day. As her mind dwelt on that gentleman and her confession to her sister the night before, she quietly whispered, "I am going to marry Mr Darcy." As soon as she uttered the words, she felt warmth flood her entire being, until her entire body felt infused with light; confirming the certainty she felt the night before that they were meant to be together. She closed her eyes, smiling in happiness and wonder; content to bask in the warmth of the sun. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open. Mr Darcy was coming today! A burst of nervous excitement coursed through her and she literally leapt from the bed, startling her sister awake.

"Lizzy?" Jane's sleepy voice caused Elizabeth to turn to her sister, a guilty look on her face.

"Forgive me, Jane. I didn't mean to wake you." Elizabeth quickly moved behind the screen, divesting herself of her nightgown. "Which dress should I wear today?" Elizabeth poked her head around the screen to ask her sister, smiling when she saw Jane had fallen back asleep. Shaking her head, she moved to sit at her dressing table in her chemise to untangle her braid.

A soft knock preceded her maid entering the room with a fresh pitcher of water and a cheery smile. "Good morning, Sarah." Elizabeth said brightly. It was such a glorious day!

Sarah paused as she looked at Elizabeth. "Why Miss Lizzy, you are positively glowing!"

Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders, blushing slightly, as she said nonchalantly, "I must have slept well."

Sarah raised her brows but said nothing. "What would you like to wear today?" She set the pitcher of warm water down and turned to look at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth was scowling, trying to untangle the knots in her hair. "Every morning," she muttered under her breath.

"Let me." Sarah came and gently swatted Elizabeth's hands away. She deftly fingered Elizabeth's curls, smoothing the tangles as she did so. She sighed, "You have such beautiful hair, Miss Lizzy."

Elizabeth snorted, "That's because it's not yours. Trust me, Sarah. If this was your hair you would curse it like I do."

Sarah shook her head. "Never. It is so soft. I love styling your hair; it makes my job so easy."

Elizabeth stared at Sarah in surprise. "Easy?"

Sarah nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes. Your hair is so thick and with those lovely, loose curls it is a dream to fix."

Elizabeth nodded absentmindedly, not in the mood to disagree. She closed her eyes as Sarah's fingers worked their magic. When Sarah pronounced her hair done, Elizabeth opened her eyes, turning her head from side to side. "Beautiful as always Sarah. Thank you."

Sarah curtseyed. "My pleasure, Miss Lizzy." She walked over and opened the door to the wardrobe. "Now what are you wearing today?"

Elizabeth stood next to Sarah, perusing her dresses. Biting her lip, she reached out, fingering the green gown from last night longingly.

"You can't wear that Lizzy. Too impractical." Jane said with a yawn, coming to stand beside her sister.

"I know. I just love it so." Elizabeth said wistfully.

Jane smiled. "You love it or you love the way Mr Darcy looks at you when you wear it?"

Elizabeth lightly swatted her sister and laughed. "I love the dress, regardless of how _anyone _looked at me when I wore it."

Jane was not convinced, but she turned to her sister's wardrobe, examining each dress. She held up several to her sister, shaking her head before discarding them. Before long, Sarah had an armful of discarded dresses.

Elizabeth sat down with a huff. "This is ridiculous, Jane! I'm acting as silly as Lydia and Kitty! I'll just wear...this one!" Elizabeth snatched a blue dress from the growing pile.

"No, No." Jane shook her head, taking the gown from her sister. "Lizzy, this is an important day. One that you will want to remember forever. It's not every day a woman is asked to be courted by a gentleman."

Sarah squealed in excitement. "Oh, Miss Lizzy! Truly?"

Elizabeth snatched the blue dress back and said, "We don't know that for sure, Jane. All I know is Mr Darcy is coming to speak to my Uncle."

Jane snorted in a very unladylike way, causing Elizabeth to raise a brow in amusement. "Don't be silly, Lizzy. Of course Mr Darcy is coming to ask permission to court you."

Elizabeth felt her heart swell with happiness at that thought; a soft smile touching her lips.

Jane looked at her and smiled knowingly. "We just have to find the perfect dress."

"You said it yourself, Jane. It doesn't matter what I wear. Mr Darcy will think I look beautiful anyway." Elizabeth made a face at her closet. _I wish I knew his favorite color._

Sarah placed the armful of gowns on a nearby chair. With a thoughtful look on her face, she reached in the back of the wardrobe and pulled out a lovely muslin dress in pale lavender with a floral design in a slightly darker shade. A touch of lace at the V neckline added a softness to the gown.

"Where did this come from?" Elizabeth fingered the fine muslin gown. "It is lovely."

Jane took the dress from Sarah, holding it up to Elizabeth. She stared at her sister for a minute in silence before pronouncing the gown, "perfect!"

Elizabeth smiled in satisfaction and a growing excitement as she washed and dressed. Standing in front of her mirror, she examined her appearance. The color of the dress complimented her dark hair and eyes and the V neckline of the gown made her neck appear elongated. Her eyes shined, causing her entire face to glow with happiness.

Jane came up beside her, smiling widely. "You look beautiful, Lizzy."

Elizabeth turned and embraced her sister. "Thank you, Jane. For everything." Elizabeth softly whispered.

"What are sisters for, Lizzy?" Jane responded with a soft smile. Jane left her sister's room to dress for the day, followed closely by Sarah.

Before leaving, Sarah suddenly turned, "Oh, Miss Lizzy! I forgot to tell you. Mr Gardiner wishes to see you in his study as soon as you break your fast." With a curtsey, she left.

Elizabeth took a deep breath to calm her suddenly racing heart. She knew she needed to talk with her Uncle. He must be so disappointed in her behavior from last night. She knew if she could just explain, he would understand. Her Uncle was considered a strict man, but with her he had always been kind and understanding. With a prayer in her heart that all would be well, she turned and left her room.

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Edward Gardiner considered himself a very good judge of character. One did not become a successful, wealthy businessman without being able to determine a man's character and moral values. He had quickly learned that money did not make the man. There were too many men who paraded as gentlemen who had wealth and connections, but their character was rotten to the core. Money was one thing, character was quite another. And Edward Gardiner valued a man's character above the money lining his pocket. Mr Darcy had wealth and connections and Mr Gardiner had always considered him an honorable man; a man of upstanding morals and character. Until last night.

Watching Mr Darcy's improper behavior towards his niece while he was sitting a foot away was beyond unconscionable. What could he mean by it? He wanted to give the gentleman the benefit of the doubt, but he couldn't deny what he had witnessed with his own eyes. The man had been sitting so close to Elizabeth that his leg had been touching her dress. Not to mention how close his face was to hers. What had he been doing? And Elizabeth...she hadn't appeared to object to Mr Darcy's attentions. Mr Gardiner shook his head in disappointment.

He loved Elizabeth and Jane like they were his own daughters, there was nothing he wouldn't do for them. If he were being completely honest with himself, Elizabeth had always held a special place in his heart. In so many ways, Elizabeth reminded him of her mother, Fanny at that age. Fanny had been just as lively, and full of joy. Which was why it was so painful to watch Fanny treat Elizabeth with barely concealed contempt, disparaging all the qualities that Fanny had embodied as a young girl. Now he didn't even recognize the woman his sister had become. He would never understand the convoluted workings of his sisters' mind. Or how bitter one woman could become over a mistake made long ago.

Not for the first time, he lamented Fanny's decision to punish Elizabeth for something that was not her fault, but his. _Although Bennet has a share in the blame as well,_ he thought wryly. If he could go back and change the past, would he? He sighed, running his hand over his face. He had begged Fanny to let him and Marianne take Elizabeth from that home. But his sister would never consider it. Elizabeth was _her_ daughter, not his. A fact she had always gleefully boasted; how she had borne five daughters, while he was doomed to have none. She felt it a just punishment for his duplicity. He closed his eyes, shame washing through him. What's done is done. His dark thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. _Elizabeth._

Taking a deep breath, he said firmly, "Come in, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth pushed open the door, standing hesitantly at the threshold. She looked at him, no doubt trying to ascertain his mood. He smiled encouragingly and said, "Come in and sit, my dear."

Elizabeth sat in the chair across from his desk and waited, her hands clenched together, her teeth biting her bottom lip. She was nervous. _She should be._ Mr Gardiner straightened in his chair, looking his niece in the eye. To her credit, she didn't flinch at the severity of his gaze, but met his eye with a slight raise of her head.

"Do you know why I wish to speak with you, Elizabeth?" He said in a firm tone.

Elizabeth merely nodded slowly. She opened her mouth as if to say something but thought better of it and closed it again, shaking her head slightly.

Mr Gardiner gestured for her to speak. He wanted to see if she realized how improper her behavior had been last night.

Elizabeth took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "You wish to speak of my behavior last night during the first half of the Opera when I was sitting beside Mr Darcy."

"Go on." Mr Gardiner leveled a look at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth looked down, suddenly ashamed. She could bear her mother's censure, but not her Uncle's. She saw his disappointment clearly in his eyes. She hadn't done anything wrong. Had she? Raising her head, she looked her Uncle in the eye. She would simply explain. He would understand. He had to. She couldn't bear what would happen if he didn't. Would he prevent her from seeing Mr Darcy? The thought made her face drain of color and her heart beat painfully in her chest. No! She would not allow it!

Mr Gardiner watched as various emotions played across his nieces face. When he saw her face suddenly go white, he asked in concern, "Are you well, my dear?"

Nodding her head quickly, Elizabeth said, "I ask that you simply hear me out. Please, Uncle."

"Of course. That is why you are here. I want to know about last night's events from your point of view. I have asked Mr Darcy to visit so I can hear the events from his point of view as well." _Before I decide my next course of action._

Elizabeth started in dismay and she felt her heart drop. Mr Darcy hadn't asked to see her Uncle? He was coming to simply explain himself, not to ask permission to court her! Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut in mortification. How could she have harbored the hope that he would want her?

Mr Gardiner watched in growing concern at his nieces distress. Misinterpreting the cause of her distress, he gently said, "Elizabeth, please. I will listen to whatever you have to say."

Elizabeth opened her eyes and dully said, "Mr Darcy was simply translating the aria for me. He probably didn't realize that he was sitting so close. He didn't mean anything by it." The last statement was said so quietly, her Uncle had to lean closer to hear her. Elizabeth's heart beat painfully in her chest and she felt like she couldn't breathe.

Mr Gardiner watched his niece closely, his brows lowered in concern. Something was not right. Getting up from behind his desk, he came over and gently raised Elizabeth from her seat. She looked up in surprise, but didn't stop him as he led her over to the sofa. Sitting down beside her, he grasped her hand. "Now Elizabeth, tell me what this is all about."

Elizabeth looked into the eyes of her Uncle; the sternness in his eyes replaced with compassion. It was that look of compassion that broke her resolve. Tears slipped silently down her face and she fought to keep her composure. Wordlessly, he handed her a handkerchief as he lightly squeezed her hand, trying to offer comfort. Elizabeth quickly wiped her tears, which were quickly replaced by more.

Mr Gardiner watched in growing dismay at Elizabeth's distress, becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Maybe Marianne would be better suited to this task as he was unused to handling weeping females. He couldn't even remember the last time Marianne had acted so upset. He stood to go call his wife, but Elizabeth gripped his hand harder.

"Please, don't go Uncle. Forgive me, I will be well in a moment." Elizabeth's steady flow of tears belied her words.

"I think your Aunt would be better suited to comfort you, my dear. I will just go and call her."

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, please Uncle. I don't need my Aunt at this moment, I wish to explain it to you."

Mr Gardiner raised his brows in surprise, but sat back down. "Very well. I can't promise that I will comfort you like she could, but I will listen to you for how ever long you need. Mr Darcy will be here soon, but he can wait until we are finished."

At the mention of Mr Darcy, Elizabeth's tears fell faster. In a broken voice, she gasped, "Then, I will leave you to meet with him, Uncle."

"No, No my dear. You are more important."

Elizabeth sat up, drying her tears again. Wringing the damp handkerchief in her hands, she whispered, "I have been a fool. A sentimental fool."

Realization slowly dawned that whatever was causing his niece distress had to do with Mr Darcy. "Why do you think you've been a fool?"

Elizabeth slowly looked up and met her Uncle's gaze. "I thought he...that is...I felt..."

"You felt that Mr Darcy had developed feelings for you?"

Elizabeth brushed a few lingering tears away angrily, "I was wrong."

Mr Gardiner looked at Elizabeth in confusion. "Why do you say that, my dear? If what I observed last night is any indication, I would have to say the gentleman is far from indifferent to you." _I just have to ascertain if his intentions are entirely honorable._

Elizabeth shook her head. "I thought that he had asked to see you today. I thought that he was coming to seek your permission."

Mr Gardiner straightened in surprise. "You think Mr Darcy is seeking a courtship?"

Elizabeth looked down in embarrassment. "I thought that, yes."

Mr Gardiner studied his niece. Judging by her distress, she harbored some feelings for the gentleman. He sighed. His conversation with Mr Darcy was going to be entirely different than the one he had originally planned. But first, he had to make sure.

"Elizabeth, look at me, my dear." He waited until Elizabeth met his gaze. He needed to see her eyes as he asked his probing questions. "What do you feel for Mr Darcy? Would a courtship with the gentleman be welcome?"

Elizabeth looked at her Uncle. She immediately thought of Mr Darcy, their shared moments, the gentle touches and ardent gazes. If that had been all, her answer would have been yes. Yes, she had feelings for the gentleman and yes, she wished to pursue a courtship. But add to all that, the moment when she had gazed into his eyes and known that he was meant for her, her answer became a resounding, _Yes!_

Mr Gardiner didn't need to hear Elizabeth's response to know her answer. He saw it all clearly in her eyes. Just one more thing..."Has Mr Darcy ever made you feel that his attentions towards you had less than honorable intentions?"

Elizabeth stared at her Uncle in shock. "No, never. Uncle, I know him to be an honorable man."

Mr Gardiner studied his niece. It was obvious she unequivocally believed what she said. He would just have to make sure before he knew what his next course of action would be. "I still don't understand what distressed you so. If you feel something for the gentleman and he feels something for you..." His voice trailed off as he recalled what triggered his nieces distress. "Elizabeth, is this because I asked Mr Darcy to visit when you were under the impression that he had asked me?"

Elizabeth slowly nodded. "Yes. I heard you say that you would see Mr Darcy today so I assumed that he had asked to speak with you. Later, I talked with Jane and she mentioned that there was only one reason Mr Darcy would seek an audience with my guardian. She convinced me that he was coming to..." Elizabeth looked down, twisting the handkerchief around and around, embarrassed to admit her folly to her Uncle.

"Seek my permission to court you?"

"Yes."

"Well, I have no doubt Mr Darcy would have asked to see me if I had not asked him first."

Elizabeth's head shot up and she gazed at her Uncle, hope flaring in her eyes.

Mr Gardiner smiled. "Elizabeth, believe me when I say that man is besotted. He tried to apologize for his behavior last night, but I felt that sitting in his box at the Opera, surrounded by people was not the best place to have that conversation. He seemed very...eager to reassure me." He smiled gently at his niece. "Elizabeth, I don't know what has caused you to doubt Mr Darcy, but I believe you have nothing to worry about in respect to that gentleman's feelings towards you."

Elizabeth suddenly felt extremely foolish. She had overreacted over...nothing. She didn't doubt Mr Darcy's feelings or even her own, she doubted her worth. Years of enduring her mother's continual censure over her suitability and desirability of being a wife to any man was so entrenched in her mind, that it was difficult to let it go. Even now, it was difficult to comprehend that Mr Darcy could want or desire _her_. "Uncle, it appears that I have been nonsensical. I have allowed by own fears and insecurities to color my judgment. Thank you for helping me to see things clearly."

Mr Gardiner's eyes narrowed. _That woman!_He wished he had tried harder to have Elizabeth live with them permanently. He should have appealed to Bennet, begged him if necessary. It would have pained her to be separated from Jane and Mary, and even her father, but at least she would have been spared the daily lies spewed from the mouth of that bitter harpy she called a mother.

Mr Gardiner leaned forward, grasping both Elizabeth's hands in his. "Elizabeth, listen to me, my dear. I know that your Aunt has told you this repeatedly, but I want to echo her sentiments. You are an extraordinary young woman and I am proud of who you are. Your mother is a bitter woman who cares for nothing and no one but herself and her own misery. She is trying everything in her power to extinguish your joy, your infectious optimism, and kind nature." Mr Gardiner looked earnestly in Elizabeth's eyes as he said, "Do not let her."

"Why?" Elizabeth's voice was a plaintive cry. "Why does she treat me so disdainfully?"

Mr Gardiners heart broke at the pain in Elizabeth's voice. Especially since he blamed himself for her pain, however indirectly. Should he tell her? Mr Gardiner hesitated. He couldn't. He couldn't bear to see the sadness in her eyes when he revealed the duplicity perpetuated by himself and her father towards her mother. No child should have to endure the disdain of their own mother, he couldn't bear to have her think ill of her father as well. She would shatter. It was his mistake, his burden and he would carry it alone.

Elizabeth watched her Uncle in confusion, unable to understand the emotions crossing his face. "Uncle?" she said hesitantly.

Mr Gardiner shook his head, resolutely. "I don't know why, Elizabeth. I just know that your mother is very unhappy and she wants you and...others to be unhappy as well." He took a shaky breath, that was all he dared to say.

Elizabeth searched her Uncle's face. He was hiding something, she was certain. Frustrated, she asked, "Why is my mother so unhappy?"

Mr Gardiner looked at Elizabeth's pleading expression. He sighed. "Her unhappiness stems from her inability to be content with her lot in life and her inability to forgive."

Elizabeth huffed. "That is too cryptic, Uncle."

Mr Gardiner smiled sadly. "I know, my dear. But that is all I will say on the matter."

Elizabeth nodded slowly, resigned. She knew she would get nothing more from her Uncle. She stood to go, but her Uncle held up a hand. "Don't think this side conversation has made me forget your behavior last evening, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth swallowed, suddenly anxious. She _had_ forgotten the primary reason for this meeting. She sat back down slowly.

Mr Gardiner, noticing her unease, smiled reassuringly. "Elizabeth, I merely wanted to express my disappointment in your improper behavior last night. Even though I now understand the reason behind it and your feelings towards the gentleman, it does not excuse the impropriety I witnessed. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Elizabeth slowly nodded her head. "Yes, I understand. I realize that we were too...open in our displays of affection."

Mr Gardiner raised his brows. "Elizabeth, what was Mr Darcy saying to you?"

Elizabeth blushed furiously. The idea of repeating what Mr Darcy had whispered, to her Uncle of all people, was beyond mortifying. She stammered, "He was translating the aria for me."

Mr Gardiner thought back to the moment he had first noticed the pair's impropriety. It was shortly after the start of Act Two. He pinched the bridge of his nose in concentration. He suddenly recalled which aria Elizabeth was referring to. As he ran through the words of the aria, he raised his brows in amusement. Well, he had to admire Mr Darcy's innovative methods of wooing. He cleared his throat, "I see. But as your guardian, I can't allow such behavior to continue, Elizabeth." He leveled a serious look at his niece. "Am I clear?"

"Yes, Uncle."

Mr Gardiner nodded in satisfaction. "You're a good girl, Elizabeth and I trust your judgment. Remember to keep a clear head. It is easy to allow your heightened emotions to control your actions. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Elizabeth was unable to meet her Uncle's strict gaze. She would promise anything to get out of this mortifying conversation. She nodded her head.

"Good. You may go."

"Thank you, Uncle. For everything." Elizabeth took her Uncle's hand, squeezing it affectionately. Aside from her father, she valued her Uncle's good opinion more than any other. With a smile, she left her Uncle's study, her heart light.

Mr Gardiner watched his niece leave, grateful that he was able to reassure her of Mr Darcy's affections. _I hope I'm not wrong in my assumptions._ He knew she wanted answers regarding her mother, but he was not strong enough to hear his own confession of what he had done, however good his intentions at the time had been. Although his heart ached at the lies she had been led to believe by her own mother, he couldn't tell her.

What he wished more than anything was for Elizabeth to realize her true worth. He knew that his words had not penetrated her heart, her expression had been unusually devoid of expression. A sure indication that she had not believed his words. He shook his head in sadness and shame. How could he make her believe her mother had told her nothing but lies? He was grateful that she had such a strong character, someone weaker would have succumbed to despair long ago. If only there was something he could do.

He glanced at his watch, surprised that his conversation with Elizabeth had lasted almost an hour. It was nearing ten o'clock, the hour when Mr Darcy would be arriving. He stood up, moving behind his desk once more. _There would be no hand holding for this next conversation, _he thought wryly.

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Darcy eagerly ascended the steps to the Gardiner's townhouse, that much closer to his goal in securing Elizabeth's hand. In moments he found himself standing in Mr Gardiners well appointed study. As he glanced around, he immediately felt at home, as it was very similar to his own sanctuary at Darcy House. That sentiment lasted until he greeted Mr Gardiner and met his gaze. The man's expression was firm, unwavering, resolute. He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling anxious. This man stood between him and his future with Elizabeth. He shook Mr Gardiners hand, forcing himself to look him in the eye. He would prove to Elizabeth's Uncle that he was worthy of her. He would not fail her.

Mr Gardiner gestured for him to take a seat across from his rather large desk. Darcy recognized the significance; Gardiner was clearly establishing dominance. Well, he would let him. It made no difference as long as the man gave him what he wanted. He sat and looked at Gardiner, his expression neutral.

Mr Gardiner was silent as he scrutinized the man sitting across from him. He could tell a lot about a man in the first few minutes of meeting him. Mr Darcy was nervous, but hid it extremely well. He knew from experience that Mr Darcy was very adept at hiding his emotions. _Except when it came to his niece. _ His nervousness would have escaped his notice if not for the brief flash he had seen in his eyes when he first greeted him. He was confident, overly so, evident in his lack of hesitation as he took the seat across from his desk, refusing to be intimidated. He wanted something, seen clearly in the determined lift of his chin and his posture. This man was used to getting what he wanted. And Mr Gardiner knew what this man wanted. He smiled in anticipation. _Well, let's see if I find you worthy of the one person that will make you a better man._

Darcy forced himself to remain still as he endured Mr Gardiner's intense perusal. He was taking his measure, and he allowed him however long he needed to do so. He needed Gardiners approbation to gain his hearts desire. He would go through whatever Gardiner threw at him, if he walked away with Elizabeth at the end of it.

After an indeterminate length of time, Mr Gardiner leaned forward, placing his clasped hands on the desk before him. He took a deep breath, looking Mr Darcy in the eye and said, "I have two questions for you, Mr Darcy and I expect an honest answer."

Darcy blinked in surprise at Gardiners direct approach. "Of course, sir."

Without preamble, Mr Gardiner said, "I want to know your feelings towards Elizabeth and if your intentions are honorable."

It took all Darcy's self control not to react in anger. It was not everyday his honor was questioned, especially in regards to a woman. He took a deep breath, then two. He had to remind himself that Gardiner had every right to question his intentions as Elizabeth's guardian. Not to mention, Gardiner had witnessed his less than proper behavior towards Elizabeth last night. He put himself in Gardiner's place. How would he react if he had seen a man behaving improperly towards Georgiana? The answer came immediately. He definitely wouldn't be sitting calmly across from the man. He would have made his displeasure known, most likely some form of violence would have been involved. He looked at Gardiner and said with conviction, "I have very strong feelings for your niece and my intentions are entirely honorable. I wish to court her with the intent to marry her."

Mr Gardiner betrayed no emotion as he listened to Mr Darcy's answer. He studied his expression, looking for any signs of dishonesty. He saw none. Mr Darcy's gaze was forthright and open. He clearly had nothing to hide. He believed Mr Darcy had strong feelings for his niece; he had witnessed it first hand last night. Not to mention all Marianne had told him. But he had to be sure there was no darker motive behind his marked interest in Elizabeth. He sighed in relief. "Thank you for your forthright answer, Mr Darcy. I hope I didn't offend. But I had to be sure."

Darcy nodded his head, "Of course, sir."

"Now, let's discuss the reason we are here. Would you say your behavior last night was keeping within the bounds of propriety, Mr Darcy?"

Darcy hesitated briefly before responding, "Not exactly, no. Sir."

Mr Gardiner noted Mr Darcy's slight hesitation, and with raised brows, said, "You seem unsure of your answer, Mr Darcy. Maybe you can explain to me why you and my niece were staring at each other, faces inches apart? Then you raised your hand with the obvious intent to touch her face. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought you meant to steal a kiss. But we both know that you are neither stupid, nor dishonorable. So, maybe you could enlighten me as to what was going through that head of yours?"

_Stay calm._Darcy straightened in his seat, meeting Gardiners steely gaze with a calmness he didn't feel. "Elizabeth was crying and I instinctively reacted to offer her comfort."

"What? You caused Elizabeth to cry?" How had he missed that she had been distressed? What had he done? Mr Gardiner felt his ire rise.

"No! Well, yes, I suppose, in a way I did." Darcy closed his eyes in dismay. Maybe he should have used Elizabeth's explanation from last night, that her tears were a result of being overcome by the beautiful music. But he knew Gardiner would have seen through his subterfuge. He sighed, at least it couldn't get any worse. He was wrong.

Mr Gardiner stared at the younger man, his eyes narrowed in barely concealed anger. In a voice of steel, he said, "You have one minute to explain yourself before I throw you out."

Darcy took a deep breath. Honesty was always the best way. Swallowing his pride, he said in a firm, clear voice, "I was translating the aria for Elizabeth; I wanted her to know what I was coming to feel for her. After I was done, she turned and looked at me. We didn't say anything, but I know she understood what I was trying to convey and it caused her to cry. But her tears were not due to distress, Mr Gardiner. Please believe me." Darcy met Gardiners gaze, forcing him to see the truth in his words.

After a moment of intense perusal, Mr Gardiner sighed, and his posture relaxed slightly. He suddenly felt very old. "I believe you, Mr Darcy. Forgive me if I overreacted but you have to understand; it is difficult for me when I hear of anyone causing that dear girl distress. She has had to endure enough censure to last two lifetimes. I couldn't countenance that a man who claimed to hold some affection for her was causing further distress."

Darcy stared at Gardiner in shock and anger. "Who has caused Elizabeth distress? Who has dared to censure her?" Darcy couldn't believe what he was hearing. When he found the person or persons who dared cause his Elizabeth pain, they would answer to him and he would show no mercy.

Mr Gardiner stared at Mr Darcy, as hope took root in his breast. _Of course.__If anyone could make Elizabeth__realize her worth, it would be a lover. _ "The one person who should have loved and encouraged her." At Mr Darcy's confused look, he added quietly, "her mother."

Darcy lost all semblance of composure in light of Gardiners revelation. _Her mother!_ He ran his hands through his hair in agitation. "How could she? How could she treat her children so callously?"

Mr Gardiner shook his head, sadly. "Not all her children, Mr Darcy. Just Elizabeth."

Darcy shot to his feet, unable to sit still as he paced back and forth in front of Gardiners desk. He turned to face Gardiner and in a cold voice simply asked, "Why?"

That impossible question again. Mr Darcy didn't need to know 'why' as much as he needed to know how he could help her. "You really do care for my niece, don't you?"

Darcy looked at Gardiner, noting the sadness in his eyes. "Very much, Mr Gardiner. There is nothing I wouldn't do for her." Sitting down, he leaned forward and in a firm voice said, "Tell me everything."

Mr Gardiner sighed. He couldn't tell him everything, but he would tell him enough. "The only thing you need to understand about my sister is that she is a very unhappy and bitter woman. For her own reasons, she has done everything in her power to crush her spirit and make her life as miserable as possible."

Darcy took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "How?"

"I won't tell you all the little details, Mr Darcy or we would be here all day." At Mr Darcy's protest, he held up a hand. "I will say that the majority of her mother's censure stems around one central theme." He paused, noting Mr Darcy was intently focused on what he was saying. "That is, that Elizabeth is unsuitable and unworthy to be the wife of any man. Let alone a man of any consequence."

Darcy stared at Gardiner in shock. _What?_ His expression darkened, his eyes steel. "That is the most preposterous thing I have ever heard. The woman must be mad. Elizabeth is everything that is beautiful, kind and good. Inside of one week of being in London for the _season_ she has been pursued by not only myself but Lynton as well."

Gardiner smiled sadly, "Yes, but Elizabeth doesn't see it that way. She has been told repeatedly that she is not beautiful enough, she is too dark, too short, too opinionated, too lively, too clever. The list goes on and on, Mr Darcy."

"What do you mean?" Darcy straightened as realization dawned, "She doesn't believe her mother's lies, does she?" At Gardiners small nod, Darcy's heart ached. _Oh, Elizabeth._ How could she believe that she wasn't beautiful? She looked in a mirror, didn't she? Too short? Too dark? What a bunch of nonsense. She was perfect, just the way she was. "I don't understand how Elizabeth, as intelligent as she is could believe what is so obviously a lie."

"Ah, but Mr Darcy, it is so much easier to believe a lie than the truth."

Darcy looked Gardiner in the eye and said with confidence," We will just have to disprove her mother's words."

Gardiner smiled, pleased that Darcy had come to the point so quickly. "Not we, Mr Darcy, you." At Darcy's surprised look, he clarified. "We have all repeatedly tried to convince Elizabeth that her mother has been speaking lies. But it just doesn't seem to penetrate that head of hers. However, I think you will succeed where we have failed."

"Of course, I will do everything in my power, Mr Gardiner. But I don't see how I can succeed where her family has failed."

"But that is precisely why you will succeed, Mr Darcy. She knows that we love and accept her for who she is _because_ we are her family. She expects such sentiments from us, so she can easily disregard them. But you _chose_ Elizabeth of your own free will, Mr Darcy. She can't as easily disregard your feelings as she does her families. Your affection and acceptance of her will go a lot farther in proving her true worth because you are not family." _Yet,_ Mr Gardiner added silently.

Darcy was silent as he took in Gardiners words, which caused his heart to beat painfully in his chest. His own free will? Had he chosen Elizabeth of his own free will? He had known since he was sixteen that she was the other half of his soul. Did he have a choice? Another, more painful thought came to his mind. If he hadn't known about Elizabeth due to his mother's extraordinary dream, would he have chosen her anyway? If he had just met her at a dance, or a dinner; would he have pursued her? Darcy shook his head. It was useless and irrelevant to engage in such thoughts. He did know about Elizabeth and he was eternally grateful for that knowledge. Now that he had actually met her...he was overjoyed. She was more than he ever dared hoped for. She truly was his perfect match in every way and time would only reinforce that knowledge.

Mr Gardiner watched as Mr Darcy contemplated all that he had told him. If Mr Darcy was the kind of man that he believed he was, Elizabeth would be very well taken care of. And he couldn't wait until that day when she left her father's home for that of her husbands. _The sooner the better._ He still had to instruct Mr Darcy in proper courting etiquette; he couldn't in good conscience allow such improper behavior that he had witnessed last night to continue. He cleared his throat lightly to gain Mr Darcy's attention.

Darcy looked up as Gardiner cleared his throat. "I understand what you are saying, sir. And I will show Elizabeth at every opportunity that her mother's words are lies." Darcy felt his anger rise at the thought of _that woman_. He would have to prepare himself for when he finally met her. At this moment, he couldn't trust himself to remain silent and courteous if he found himself in her presence.

"Now, let's speak of lighter things. Shall we?" Mr Gardiner smiled slightly, before leveling a stern gaze at the man who he hoped to one day call nephew. "If you are to pursue a courtship with Elizabeth, there are a few things that I need you to understand." At Mr Darcy's hopeful expression, he held up a hand, "First, you have to know that Elizabeth has practically no dowry." Mr Gardiner watched for Mr Darcy's reaction. He was being deliberately untruthful, but he had to make sure he wouldn't abandon her if he believed she had nothing. He knew that Mr Darcy was extremely wealthy and likely didn't need the money, but he knew that most gentlemen of his social standing expected _something._

Darcy immediately shook his head, "I don't care if she comes with nothing but the clothes on her back, Mr Gardiner. That in no way alters my decision."

Mr Gardiner nodded in satisfaction. "Very good. And her ah...connections in trade?"

Darcy stared at Gardiner. Was he really asking if he objected to him? He was as well connected as almost any peer in the realm. "Mr Gardiner, even if you were only a modest tradesman living in Cheapside, it would not prevent me from pursuing your niece."

Mr Gardiner barked out a laugh. "That is good, Mr Darcy as I once lived in Cheapside and was a very modest tradesman at one time."

Darcy paled. '"I beg your pardon, Mr Gardiner. I meant no disrespect."

Mr Gardiner waved his hand, dismissively. "Of course not, young man. But my sister's husband is a solicitor of very modest means in Meryton. What about that?" Mr Gardiner leaned forward, resting his clasped hands on the desk.

Darcy shook his head. "Even if she had Aunts and Uncles to fill all of Cheapside and Meryton, combined, it would not make the least difference to me."

Mr Gardiner smiled as he leaned back in his chair, resting his hands on his stomach. "Well, then Mr Darcy, if you are still inclined to pursue this course of action. I give you my permission to court Elizabeth." At Darcy's exultant expression, he held up a finger, "On one condition."

Darcy immediately sobered. "Of course, Mr Gardiner."

"I want to make it absolutely clear that the behavior I witnessed yesterday is not appropriate and will not be tolerated. Am I clear?"

Darcy nodded his head. "Yes, sir. I understand you perfectly."

Mr Gardiner scrutinized Mr Darcy. Satisfied with what he saw, he nodded his head in satisfaction. "Very well. Now I give you leave to find my niece and obtain her consent. Because all this is for naught if she doesn't agree to it."

Darcy had to repress the urge to smirk at Mr Gardiner. Not consent to it, indeed. Darcy was very confident in _his _Elizabeth's expectations regarding his intentions. He quickly stood, bowing to Gardiner. "Thank you very much, Mr Gardiner. I am grateful for your approval regarding my intentions towards Elizabeth's welfare. I will not disappoint you, sir."

"See that you don't Mr Darcy. I will say this only once. If you do anything to harm that dear girl, in any way, you will answer to me and I will spend the rest of my days ensuring that you regret it."

Darcy swallowed hard at the deadly seriousness in the man's eyes. He did not doubt for a moment that Gardiner would follow through with his threat, and likely relish doing so. Darcy nodded to Gardiner and turned to seek out his Elizabeth to begin showing her just how extraordinary she truly was.

"Oh, and Mr Darcy?"

Darcy turned. "Yes, Mr Gardiner?"

"Don't think I haven't noticed you calling Elizabeth by her Christian name. She is Miss Elizabeth to you until the day she becomes Mrs Darcy. Understood?"

Darcy simply nodded, too overcome with the idea of Elizabeth as Mrs Darcy. His heart swelled with happiness. He was so close to obtaining all he desired. He was suddenly impatient to be in her presence again. He turned to quickly leave the room to find Elizabeth. Before he got a handful of steps to the door, Gardiner called to him, again.

"Oh, and Darcy?"

"Yes, Mr Gardiner?" What had he done wrong now?

"Call me Gardiner."

Darcy smiled and with a last bow, he hastened to find his Elizabeth.

A/N: So that wasn't too bad, was it? A lot of emotional drama in this chapter. This chapter was much, much longer than I originally anticipated. When I began to write it, I had no intention of adding in all the drama that is Mrs Bennet. Maybe it was due to all the speculating going on regarding why she is so disdainful towards Elizabeth :). I will say that no one has guessed correctly yet. So maybe the clues I left will get your speculative juices flowing (Mr Gardiner feels guilty, hmmm and blames Mr Bennet as well? What happened to cause Mrs Bennet to become so bitter?). I may just have to reward the person who guesses correctly with something really cool. What, I have no idea. But I'll think of something :).

So, my reviews have gone down the past few chapters, :( I am not opposed to begging or bribes, so pretty please? Tell me what you think. Please? I have posted at least twice a week since starting, but maybe I should only post once a week? Reviews=chapters :). I love all your reviews, and I am embarrassed to admit how often I read them. They never fail to lift my spirits and cause me to want to write faster. I have the messy house to prove it!

Thank you all for your continued support, it means a lot!


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 14

Elizabeth left her Uncle's study with a light heart and went to find her Aunt and Jane. She would need a good distraction when Mr Darcy came to meet with her Uncle. Would he seek her out? If she didn't see him after his call, then she had obviously misinterpreted his intentions. Shaking her head, she silently chastised herself. _Stop it, Elizabeth!__You know that is not true._She would remain positive, even if she had to force herself. Even if Mr Darcy's intent was not to seek a courtship today did not mean that he would not at a later time. _After all, he has known me less than a week!_

Elizabeth found both her Aunt and Jane in the Drawing Room. Upon entering, conversation between them abruptly stopped. "No need to stop on my account; I know you are probably talking about me." Elizabeth smiled playfully, sitting beside her sister.

"We were just wondering how your conversation with your Uncle went, Lizzy. Edward seemed rather...upset last night." Mrs Gardiner looked sympathetically at her niece. "I hope he was not too hard on you?" She looked at Elizabeth with trepidation.

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, he said what needed to be said."

"What took so long, Lizzy? We were beginning to be worried for you," Jane said in concern.

Elizabeth turned to Jane, a contemplative look on her face. How should she answer? She knew if she expressed her doubts, Jane and her Aunt would quickly reassure her and declare emphatically that her assumptions were wrong. She sighed lightly. "There was a simple misunderstanding. It took some time for us to each understand the other."

With a perplexed expression, Jane asked, "What misunderstanding, Lizzy?"

Mrs Gardiner noticed Elizabeth's reluctance to divulge any details of all that had passed in her husbands study; she felt instinctively that her niece wished to keep it to herself. For now. Diverting Jane's attention, she asked, cheerfully, "How would you girls like to go shopping later today?"

With a last concerned look at her sister, Jane turned to her Aunt. "I would like that very much. Although, I have nothing that I need."

Elizabeth laughed. "That has never stopped our Aunt from shopping, Jane."

"Indeed. But you are wrong, Jane. We do have something to shop for." With an expectant smile, Mrs Gardiner got up to retrieve her correspondence. "We received an invitation to dine at Matlock House on Friday. I know Eleanor is anxious to see you girls again. I thought we could call on her later today to visit and accept her invitation." With a knowing look in Elizabeth's direction, she said, "Besides, we might have some information to relay regarding her nephew and my niece." Mrs Gardiner winked at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth forced a smile and shrugging her shoulders said nonchalantly, "Perhaps. We shall see." Her Aunt and Jane each gave her a confused look, but thankfully they said nothing. Elizabeth breathed a small sigh of relief. Hopefully her doubts would be for naught. She was still hoping that Mr Darcy would seek her out, even if his intent was not to seek a courtship at this time. She was eager to see him again; her stomach fluttered at the thought, whether from anticipation or nervousness she couldn't discern. She felt a certain expectation about today, but she was going to stay realistic. She would be disappointed if she didn't see him today. Maybe...just then, the distinct sound of the door knocker was heard, indicating someone was at the door. Her eyes widened and her heart rate picked up. _He was here. _

Jane turned to her with a smile. Leaning over, she whispered, "It won't be long now, Lizzy. He will come."

Elizabeth merely nodded her head, unable to speak. Yes, he would come. He had to. She just wanted to see him, that was all. He didn't have to ask her...Elizabeth got up and started wandering around the room. Pausing at the window, she looked out. The sun was shining brightly, no stormy clouds in sight. She smiled. It was going to be a glorious day. "It looks like the weather will remain sunny for our shopping trip, Aunt." Elizabeth turned in time to see an amused look pass between her Aunt and Jane. She huffed, "You can't expect me to not feel anxious."

They laughed. "Of course, Lizzy. But you have nothing to feel anxious about. You'll see." Mrs Gardiner smiled knowingly at her flustered niece. This was so much fun! She couldn't wait to tell Eleanor, she would be thrilled. She bit her lip in concentration, now how to get them alone without being so obvious?

Elizabeth watched her Aunt in amusement. She looked so pleased. Probably hatching a ploy to get her and Mr Darcy alone. She shook her head. If Mr Darcy wanted to see her alone, she had no doubt he would simply ask for it. He was forthright in everything he did; subtlety was not in his nature. At least nothing about their interactions thus far had been subtle. It was so strange how she could feel so attuned to someone she really didn't know. Other than how he took his tea, she knew nothing about his likes and dislikes. What he was passionate about or what was important to him. She was eager to learn all this and more. She glanced at the clock on the mantle. She sighed, only fifteen minutes had passed.

Jane came up to her and gently led her to the pianoforte. "You need a distraction, Lizzy. You're starting to make me anxious."

Elizabeth laughed nervously, "I apologize, Jane. You're right, I could use a distraction."

"I think playing the pianoforte will be perfect. When Mr Darcy is done with my Uncle, he will know exactly where to find you. Your playing will guide him to you." Jane said with a smile.

Sitting down at the pianoforte, Elizabeth turned to her sister in surprise. "Jane! Our Aunt's influence is coming through, you are positively devious."

Jane laughed merrily. "Well, then I say our visit has been a success. I have learned to be devious."

Elizabeth smiled at her sister, grateful for her playful banter. It definitely distracted her from feeling nervous of her impending visit from Mr Darcy. Her _possible_ visit from Mr Darcy, she mentally corrected herself. She idly started playing a lively tune from memory, while Jane sat nearby. After playing a few pieces from memory, her eyes drifted to the mantle clock. More than thirty minutes had passed. Biting her lip, she wondered what could be taking so long.

Jane came up beside her and quietly said, "I think it is a good sign he is still with our Uncle." At Elizabeth's inquiring look, she added, "He is very protective of us, he will take his time to learn more about Mr Darcy and his intentions towards you."

Elizabeth slowly nodded her head, "yes, that is true." She knew that a majority of their conversation would be about their improper behavior last night, but she didn't need to inform Jane of that. She still hadn't shared with her sister those moments when they had breached the bounds of propriety. She knew her sister would be shocked that she had allowed Mr Darcy to take liberties. But despite the rules of propriety, she could not feel ashamed about what had occurred between them. She knew that Mr Darcy would never take advantage of her. His physical gestures were always respectful and came from a desire to express affection rather than to force it on her out of some darker motive. Such as the moment last night when he had helped her with her cloak. She blushed at the memory of his fingers lightly brushing her neck. She knew that it had been intentional.

Her face red, Elizabeth went through the stack of music, searching for something new that would force her to concentrate. She found a promising piece by Beethoven that did not seem too difficult, but would take all her concentration to play. She quickly skimmed over the music of Beethoven's Piano Sonata No 14 in C-sharp minor (1) before beginning to play the first movement. She started out tentatively, but became more confident as the piece progressed. _How beautiful._ She would have to copy this in her music book before returning home so Mary could play it as well. She went over several passages repeatedly until she got the fingering just right before continuing.

After finishing the first movement, she paused, thinking about what the piece was trying to convey. It had an almost mournful quality, but it was not one of sadness but...what was it? Elizabeth played the first few lines, searching for the word that matched what she was feeling as she played. Finally, the correct word came to her. _Longing._ The piece conveyed a feeling of longing, but it was more than that; it was longing for something that was unattainable. What did she long for that was unattainable? She closed her eyes as a sudden ache grew in her heart. Her eyes filled with tears as the answer came. _Her mother._ Didn't she long for the love and approbation of the woman who had given her life? And was that not an unattainable dream? She opened her eyes, quickly wiping away her tears. She shook her head. No, she would not think of her. Instead, she thought of Mr Darcy. Didn't she long for him as well? But he was not unattainable. He was within her reach; so very close. Smiling, she knew how she would play the piece. With thoughts of Mr Darcy, she began again; pouring all the emotion she was feeling into her playing. Everything around her faded as she lost herself in the beauty of the music.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Darcy exited Gardiners study and looked around for a footman to direct him to Mrs Gardiner. As eager as he was to see Elizabeth, he would properly greet the Mistress of the house before seeking her out. With luck, they would be together. He smiled in anticipation. Now where was the footman? Not seeing him nearby, he quickly came to a decision, walking purposefully in the direction of the Drawing Room. It was likely that Mrs Gardiner would be there at this time of day.

As he drew closer to his destination, he heard the unmistakable sounds of a pianoforte. He slowed his steps as he came to the partially open door and paused, listening. He immediately recognized the piece by Beethoven, as Georgiana was in the process of learning it. As he listened, he was struck by the intensity of emotions being expressed. The music pierced his heart with an unmistakable feeling of longing and...He closed his eyes in concentration, searching for the correct word. _Hope._ Yes, that was it, hope and anticipation. Although the player was not technically proficient, he had never before heard anything that moved him so powerfully. Not even Georgiana's playing, which was above average came close. _Elizabeth._ It must be Elizabeth who was playing. He knew no one else could pierce his heart so intensely.

Slowly, he walked to the open door and peered inside. The sounds were emanating from the left so he softly stepped into the room, turning in that direction. He was vaguely aware of Mrs Gardiner and Miss Bennet sitting near the pianoforte conversing quietly. But his gaze immediately fixed on Elizabeth sitting behind the pianoforte; almost directly in front of him. If she looked up, she would see him. _I am here, Elizabeth.__Look at me._

As if sensing his presence and silent entreaty, Elizabeth suddenly looked up. As their gazes met across the room, her fingers slipped, causing a dissonant sound; alerting her Aunt and sister to his presence. Mrs Gardiner turned and greeted him warmly. He entered the room, feeling the pull Elizabeth had on his soul. Unconsciously, he greeted Mrs Gardiner and Miss Bennet, his entire being fixed on the beautiful woman at the pianoforte. Finally, he turned to greet Elizabeth. She slowly stood as he approached her, bestowing the slow, soft smile he loved and knew she reserved just for him.

She curtsied and he immediately reached for her hand, needing to touch her. She offered it with a small smile. He kissed her hand lightly, his lips lingering a touch longer than necessary. He straightened and smiling asked, "I hope you are well, Miss Elizabeth?"

"I am very well, Mr Darcy. I thank you." Elizabeth searched his face, looking for any signs of unease caused by the conversation with her Uncle. She realized belatedly, that Mr Darcy was doing the exact same thing. When they both realized it, they laughed and Elizabeth said teasingly, "I suppose it would simply be easier to ask if all went well with my Uncle?"

Darcy immediately thought of all Gardiner had imparted regarding Elizabeth and her mother. A shadow of anger crossed his face before he could prevent it. He was not surprised that Elizabeth noticed, a slight frown creasing her beautiful face. "Yes, all went well, Miss Elizabeth." He smiled to show her that he meant it. He didn't want to bring up a painful subject on this particular day. He had much more pleasant things to discuss with her.

Elizabeth was startled by the brief flash of anger she had seen cross Mr Darcy's handsome features. What had caused it? She searched his gaze for any lingering signs, but it was gone. His expression was open, his gaze warm as he looked at her. She smiled, gesturing to some chairs that were near the pianoforte. "Shall we sit?"

Darcy hesitated before saying, "It is such a beautiful day. I was hoping we could enjoy the sunshine while it lasted." He glanced at Mrs Gardiner and Miss Bennet sitting nearby, silently communicating that there were far too many people present.

Elizabeth's heart soared. "Of course. We could take a turn about the garden. Would that be agreeable?"

"Very."

Elizabeth turned and addressed her Aunt. "If it is alright Aunt, Mr Darcy and I will take a turn about the garden."

Mrs Gardiner smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Of course. It would be a shame not to enjoy such a beautiful day."

"Thank you." Elizabeth smiled at her Aunt and Jane as she left the room with Mr Darcy. Her Aunt gave her a subtle wink while Jane smiled knowingly. Elizabeth left the room feeling lightheaded and euphoric. _Was this it?__Would he ask her? _ She had to force herself to take even breaths. She mustn't get her hopes up, maybe he wanted to talk to her privately for some other reason. _Not likely._ She smiled in anticipation. Regardless of what happened she would have more time with him, and she would take advantage of it.

As they entered the garden, Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm and smiled when she immediately took it. He placed his other hand over hers, drawing her as near to his side as possible. They were silent as they walked the path to the large oak tree. Darcy's mind was frantically searching for the right words to say. He was not nervous, but he wanted to do this right, for her. The thought briefly flashed through his mind of what he would do if she said no. _She would not refuse him, would she?_ He glanced down at Elizabeth and immediately noticed that she was smiling. No, she was glowing. She was so beautiful. His heart swelled with pride that she was his. _Almost his_.

They approached the tree and Darcy guided Elizabeth to the bench. She sat, but instead of taking the seat next to her, he started pacing, his brows lowered in concentration. He looked at her and stopped abruptly at the sparkle of mirth evident in her beautiful brown eyes. "Laughing at me, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth shook her head, smiling. "Not at all, Mr Darcy. You just looked unusually serious. I haven't seen that particular look on your face since I first saw you at Sir Reginald's ball."

Darcy raised his brows in surprise. "When you first saw me?" He thought back to that night and the moment when he first saw her. He hadn't looked serious had he?

Elizabeth watched as confusion spread across his handsome features. She said softly, "I saw you before you saw me."

Darcy looked at her in surprise. "When?"

"Shortly before Sir Reginald came and asked me to dance. You looked much as you did just now." With a teasing smile, she said, "And as I recall, you were surrounded by beautiful women all trying to catch your eye."

Darcy frowned. He did remember. He had felt despair creeping on the edges of his soul. He had turned to leave when a voice, coming from within had urged him to turn and look. And that was when he saw her and his life was forever changed. Because of her. Darcy moved to sit beside Elizabeth, reaching over to take her hand, gently rubbing circles on the back of it. "What did you think when you first saw me?"

Elizabeth blushed slightly as she recalled her first impression had been that he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. With a raised brow, and a playful smile, she said, "I thought that you were exceptionally..." Mr Darcy leaned in, an eager look in his eyes. "Tall."

Darcy burst out laughing. "Indeed? Well, I am glad I made such a _big_ first impression."

Elizabeth laughed merrily. "Indeed, you did." Her laughter slowly died and she said, quietly, "You looked so...uncomfortable, like you would rather be anywhere but at that ball. But what really caught my notice was how you were searching the ballroom so intently, your mien so serious. I wondered what you could be searching for so desperately."

"You." At Elizabeth's confused expression, he clarified. "I was searching for you."

Elizabeth stared at Mr Darcy, lost in the warm intensity of his gaze. Softly, she said, "I remember wishing that you would find whatever it was you were looking for, if only to make that hopeless expression disappear from your face."

"And has it?" Darcy leaned in slightly, inviting her to search his expression.

Elizabeth searched Mr Darcy's face, but knew she would find no trace of that hopelessness she had seen that night. She silently shook her head.

"And I never will feel such hopelessness again. Because of you." Darcy reached up and lightly ran a finger down her cheek.

"How? Why?"

Darcy's breath caught and his heart pounded in his chest. Here was an opportunity to tell Elizabeth about how he _knew_, how he had been waiting for her for almost eleven years. But now was not the time. Learning about Elizabeth's mother changed everything. He was determined that she never doubt him, doubt his feelings for her. For that he needed time to prove his constancy, his worth. He would tell her, but not now. Darcy simply said, "I just know."

Elizabeth stared into Mr Darcy's eyes, overcome with the look of certainty she saw in his gaze, the same certainty she knew was mirrored in hers. She whispered, "As do I."

Darcy felt like standing and shouting for joy. It must have shown in his face because Elizabeth lightly laughed, joy infusing her features. Darcy smiled and squeezing her hand said, "With everything that has passed between us, what comes next almost seems..."

"Unnecessary, " Elizabeth offered.

Darcy nodded. She understood. "Yes, exactly. But, a courtship will provide time to become better acquainted with me."

Elizabeth felt her heart was about to burst. She could not repress the joy and contentment she felt from showing clearly on her face. He did want her. He felt as she did. She said contentedly, "It goes both ways, Mr Darcy. You need time to become better acquainted with me as well."

Darcy slowly shook his head, captivated by the joy in Elizabeth's eyes. "I don't need time to know my own heart, Elizabeth. There will never be anyone for me, but you." Darcy took Elizabeth's hand, raising it to his lips to bestow a gentle kiss before kissing the inside of her wrist, his lips lingering on her pulse. He raised his eyes to meet hers, and with a low voice, said ardently, "May I court you, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth felt like she couldn't breathe. Her heart beat so loudly she was sure Mr Darcy could hear it. She whispered, fervently, "Yes. Yes, you may."

Darcy smiled, his heart in his eyes. "Thank you, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth laughed. She had never felt so happy. "Does it seem strange to you? That we have known each other barely one week and already we are talking about a courtship?"

Darcy became pensive. "To most people maybe, it would be considered unusual. But there is nothing ordinary about what is happening with us, is there?"

"No, I suppose not." She laughed. "It seems almost too easy."

In a sardonic voice, he said, "Well, I suppose I could insult you, ignore you for a month or so while staring at you in an intense way that makes you think I disapprove of you."

"Oh dear. I don't think I would like that at all. It would cause me to think you the most proud, disagreeable man of my acquaintance. I would likely scorn, laugh and make fun of you."

"Well, then let us not question why, but simply be grateful we have been spared such a horrible fate." Darcy smiled, squeezing her hand gently.

"Indeed. I am very grateful." Elizabeth smiled. She knew she would smile for the rest of her days, if only she could have Mr Darcy by her side.

Darcy smiled in contentment, she had said yes! "Well, Miss Elizabeth. I fear I have kept you out here long enough. I don't want your Uncle to think ill of me." Darcy helped her stand, placing her hand in the crook of his arm.

Elizabeth glanced up at him, and with a raised brow, said in amusement, "So I am _Miss_ Elizabeth again, Mr Darcy?"

Darcy gave her a slightly sheepish look. "Ah...your Uncle admonished me for using your Christian name. I am afraid I used it too liberally when we were talking this morning."

Elizabeth laughed. "So you were talking about me, hmmmm?"

Darcy smiled. "Minx. What did you think we were talking about?"

Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. "What do men usually talk about? Politics, the war..."

Darcy laughed. "Let me tell you a little secret, _Miss_ Elizabeth. Men talk about those things, yes. But there is one subject that occupies their thoughts more than any other."

"Oh, and what is that?"

"The women in their lives."

Elizabeth stopped and turned to Mr Darcy, "Oh, so you are telling me that you have _women_ in your life?" He was not _that_ type of man, was he? Had she been wrong about him? Were all men deceivers like her mother said?

Darcy shrugged, "Of course, I have two." He glanced at Elizabeth to see a look of consternation pass over her face. Confused at her reaction, he clarified, "You and Georgiana." A look of annoyance and relief passed over her face, causing him to laugh. "Who did you think I meant?"

Elizabeth shook her head, suddenly embarrassed at what she had thought. She mumbled, "no one."

Darcy looked at Elizabeth, confused. She was clearly uncomfortable. What had he said? Suddenly, realization dawned. Did she think he was the kind of man who kept mistresses? He shook his head, angry at himself. Not even an hour after commencing their courtship and already she was doubting him. He said, gently, "Elizabeth, look at me." He gently lifted her chin with his finger so he could see her eyes. "I meant what I said, that there will never be _anyone _for me, but you," he said emphatically. "Do you believe me?"

Elizabeth looked into his eyes, reassured by the open honesty of his gaze. How could she doubt him? What was wrong with her? "Yes, I do believe you. Forgive me, I don't know what came over me."

Darcy knew exactly what caused Elizabeth to misunderstand, to doubt him. Her mother and her lies. Pushing down the sudden anger he felt, he said, "There is nothing to forgive, Elizabeth. I promise I will never lie to you. I wish for you to trust me."

Elizabeth said with certainty, "I do. I do trust you."

Darcy searched her eyes. She believed what she was saying, but she didn't fully trust him. Not yet. _But she will, I will make sure of it._"Good." He nodded his head. "Let's return to the house."

When they returned to the Drawing Room, the pair were met by not only Mrs Gardiner and Jane, but Mr Gardiner as well. He gave Darcy a questioning look and at Darcy's slight nod, smiled in satisfaction. Mrs Gardiner needed no such indication from Mr Darcy to know that the pair were now officially courting.

"Oh Lizzy! I am so happy for you!" Mrs Gardiner rushed to embrace her niece, grabbing Darcy's hand at the same time.

Elizabeth laughed at her Aunt's exuberance. "Thank you, Aunt."

"Oh, I can't wait to tell Eleanor, she will be as ecstatic as I." Mrs Gardiner turned to Mr Darcy, "That is alright, isn't it, Mr Darcy? You would want your family to know about this happy event?" She beamed at her soon to be future nephew.

Before Darcy could reply, Elizabeth shot a nervous look at Mr Darcy, sure that he would want to keep this quiet. "We are courting, Aunt not engaged to be married. There is plenty of time to inform our families."

Darcy smiled at Elizabeth. "No, I want our family to know. They know that I like my privacy, they will not gossip about our business."

"Wonderful! We can tell her this afternoon when we visit. Oh, I can't wait to see the look on her face!" Mrs Gardiner excused herself and left the room in a bustle of energy.

Mr Gardiner shook his head in amusement at his wife's enthusiasm. He couldn't fault her for being so excited as she considered Elizabeth as her own daughter. _I wish she were_, he thought sadly. He had done what he could for his sister's children, more out of guilt then familial responsibility. He was grateful she didn't know what he had done for her girls or he would never hear the end of yet another example of his meddling in other people's affairs.

Jane came over to the couple, embracing her sister and whispering quietly so only she could hear, "I told you all would be well." She smiled at Elizabeth, before turning to Mr Darcy. "I am very happy for you, sir. My sister is a rare treasure, I hope you know how fortunate you are."

"Jane!" Elizabeth blushed, embarrassed. "I am the one who is fortunate."

"No, your sister is right, Eliz-" Mr Gardiner shot Darcy a warning look. "Miss Elizabeth. I know what I have and now only have to become worthy of you."

Elizabeth was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with this line of conversation. She said, decidedly, "Well, let us agree that we are both fortunate."

Darcy bowed, smiling warmly at Elizabeth. "Agreed. Now, what is this about you visiting my Aunt this afternoon?"

"Your Aunt invited us to dinner at Matlock House on Friday so we are going to visit and accept her invitation later this afternoon. After shopping." Elizabeth wrinkled her nose in distaste. She did not care for shopping. Book shopping however...

Darcy looked at Elizabeth in surprise. "You don't care for shopping, Miss Elizabeth?" Darcy was not aware of any females who didn't love shopping. To him shopping was synonymous with being a woman.

"Not particularly. I like pretty things as much as the next woman, but I am not overly fond of shopping." As an afterthought, she said, "Unless its books."

Jane and Mr Gardiner laughed. Jane said, "That is true, Mr Darcy. If you want to know the way to win over my sister, buy her a book."

"I'll have to remember that." Darcy said quietly, smiling at Elizabeth. Somehow, that didn't surprise him at all. He couldn't wait to find out if they had similar tastes in books. He anticipated some lively debates. Nonchalantly, he asked, "What time were you planning on going to my Aunt's?"

Mr Gardiner snorted. "So you can conveniently show up at the same time, eh Darcy?"

Slightly abashed, Darcy said, "My sister and I haven't seen our Aunt in some time. I am sure Georgiana would like to see her, not to mention she will want to see you as well, Miss Elizabeth. Especially in light of our news."

"I would like to see her, very much. However, I am not sure what time we will visit your Aunt." A sudden idea came to Elizabeth. "Would Miss Darcy want to go shopping with us? We could stop at Darcy House on our way to Bond Street. Then she would be with us when we visit Lady Eleanor."

"I am sure she would love to go, Miss Elizabeth. What time should I say you will call for her?" Darcy would just invite himself along. He could endure shopping for an afternoon if he was able to be in Elizabeth's company.

Elizabeth turned to Jane as she was not sure what had been decided while she and Mr Darcy had been in the garden. She couldn't stop an involuntary smile spreading across her face. She and Mr Darcy were courting! Jane shot her sister an amused look before turning to Mr Darcy. "Two o'clock, Mr Darcy."

"Very well. I will take my leave now so I can inform my sister." _And change my plans for the afternoon with Richard._ Darcy turned to Elizabeth, hoping she would show him out.

Elizabeth, knowing what he wished, said, "Let me show you out, Mr Darcy."

Mr Gardiner cleared his throat, and gave a pointed look in Darcy's direction. "Hurry back, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth blushed slightly, "Yes, Uncle."

Darcy allowed Elizabeth to precede him as they left the Drawing Room. Once they were in the hallway, he took her hand and kissed it lightly. "I hope it is agreeable to you that my family is informed of our courtship?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, of course." Elizabeth hesitated. "I would want to keep it from my family, for now." She could only imagine what this information would cause to be unleashed in her mother. She knew it would not benefit her in anyway. She would likely insist that Elizabeth come home immediately. She glanced up at Mr Darcy, noticing his expression was forbidding, his eyes dark. Misinterpreting his anger to mean he was displeased with her decision, quickly said, "I will tell my father, of course. And Mary. I just don't think there is any reason to tell the rest of my family."

Darcy stopped walking. He looked at her, his gaze softening. "Miss Elizabeth. I understand, believe me. I would not wish you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable." Darcy said reassuringly, "Indeed, there are family members I do not wish informed as well." At Elizabeth's look of surprise, he smiled and said simply, "My Aunt, Lady Catherine will be...less than pleased with my decision."

Elizabeth face paled. "She would disapprove of me, then?"

"She would disapprove of anyone who is not her daughter. She has long harbored the hope that I would marry my cousin."

"Oh." Elizabeth said softly. Of course that made sense. A wealthy, well connected heiress marrying a wealthy, well connected gentleman. Not to mention it was his cousin. They probably grew up together, knowing they were meant to marry. Did he harbor some affection for his cousin, did she? Would he leave her eventually, to marry his cousin? Suddenly she could hear her mother's words ring loudly in her ears, _"You are nothing, no one will ever want you!__All men will lie and deceive you in the end.__You are better off alone."_Elizabeth shook her head, angrily. No! Mr Darcy was different, he would never be duplicitous.

Darcy watched Elizabeth's face at his revelation, and saw clearly how it unsettled her. He sighed. "Elizabeth." He waited until she looked at him. "It will never happen. I have never wished it." He gently took her hand. "I am my own man and I make my own decisions. She has no control over me."

Elizabeth looked into Mr Darcy's eyes, and she knew. _This man will never leave me_. It is simply not in his character to be deceitful. Her mother was wrong. She took a deep breath, her mother's words fading away as she gazed at her future. She smiled, her heart light. "I understand, Mr Darcy."

Satisfied with what he saw, nodded. "Good." He took her arm as they walked to the front door where he was handed his hat, gloves and cane by the butler. He nodded his thanks before turning to Elizabeth and bowed. "Farewell, Miss Elizabeth. Georgiana and I will see you at two o'clock."

Elizabeth raised a brow in amusement. "We, Mr Darcy?"

Darcy gave her a slow smile, "Of course. I always accompany my sister shopping. She thinks it is good practice."

"For what?"

With a significant look, Darcy said, "For when I have a wife."

A/N: Ahhhhh! Yea, they are officially courting! :) I have to admit I LOVE this stage of the relationship. What fun we will have *rubs hands together gleefully*.

So, in thanks for all the lovely reviews I got last chapter, 83! I PMd everyone who reviewed last chapter a small preview of this chapter. I apologize profusely to the guest reviewers and the few individuals who did not have PM enabled (I think there were 2). I told you I was not above giving bribes :).

Now for all your speculations about Mrs B. They were as varied and creative as anything I could have come up with. A few of them made me raise my brows and think, that's brilliant! I wish I'd have thought of that! :) So as to your guesses, a few of you were definitely barking up the _right _tree, some of you were barking up the _wrong_ tree, and some of you were nowhere near a tree, but scrubbing somewhere down in the underbrush. How's that for a bunch of metaphorical nonsense? To be more specific, the follow reviews caught my eye, for one reason or another: Shay, tammyrolls, CassandraLowry and a guest reviewer (sorry no name). Each of these reviews had an element of truth, but that is all I'm saying :)

The most popular speculation seems to be that there was a twin boy and E caused the death of said boy. Every time I read this, I have to cringe because (1) I have boy/girl twins so the idea is particularly abhorrent to me, and (2) it has been done. A lot. I wanted a fresh angle on Mrs B and I am pretty sure mine hasn't been done, but I could be wrong. So please? Stop killing off the boy twin ok? It makes me want to go hug my little guy extra hard every time I read it :)

I also want to give a special shout out to two reviewers who caught a particular element of Darcy's introspection on choosing E of his own free will. This will be come back in a BIG way in the near future, so kudos to MrsJGO and Anedrew.

Well, I think that's all for now. I am going to _try_ to post on Wed and Sat. I will do my best, but my family will always come first. To heck with a messy house! (Have you ever _tried _to clean a house with twin 3 year olds? It's like trying to clean a blender while its on, with food in it -impossible!)

(1) Otherwise known as Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, which was not given that name until 1832.

I found some interesting information in my Regency research this week. The following contractions didn't exist during the Regency Period: shouldn't, wasn't and wouldn't. Other phrases that didn't exist during Regency period: cheerio, blister it, confound it, drat, fancy that, glory be, botheration, smashing. Interesting huh? Just one more thing I'll need to go back and change.

Please review!


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 15

Elizabeth waited until they were on their way to collect Miss Darcy before informing her Aunt and Jane that Mr Darcy was coming as well.

Mrs Gardiner laughed, "I am not surprised, Lizzy. I thought Mr Darcy would contrive some way to come."

Elizabeth turned to her sister, "You don't mind, do you Jane?"

Jane looked at her sister, incredulously, "Of course not, Lizzy." Then with a sly smile, said, "I think Mr Darcy coming will make this shopping trip quite...memorable."

The three women laughed and Elizabeth said, "Well, I don't imagine Mr Darcy will be very comfortable, although he assured me he always went shopping with his sister." Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders, "Maybe Mr Darcy and I could simply go to Hatchard's Book Shop and leave the shopping to the three of you."

Mrs Gardiner shook her head solemnly. "Lizzy, that will not do at all. I am sure Miss Darcy is looking forward to spending time with you, especially in light of your courtship with her brother. This is a big change in her life as well. She has had her brother to herself for over five years. I am sure she is thrilled with Mr Darcy's decision, but I think she may need some reassurances."

Elizabeth looked thoughtfully at her Aunt. "I didn't even think about that. I am ashamed that I have been so self absorbed lately." She looked at her Aunt and Jane apologetically, "I am sorry."

"Don't be silly, Lizzy. We understand and are so happy for you." Jane smiled affectionately at her sister, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "You deserve to have the love of a good man."

Elizabeth stared at her sister. "He has said nothing about love, Jane."

Mrs Gardiner laughed in amusement. "Well, he may not have said the words, Lizzy but his every gesture and look has expressed that very sentiment." _Even if he is not fully aware of it himself.__Yet._

Elizabeth was thoughtful as she contemplated her Aunt's words. It posed the question of whether or not she was in love with Mr Darcy. Was she? How did she know? She enjoyed being in his presence. Indeed, she looked forward to every encounter with anticipation and excitement. Despite the fact that she knew next to nothing about him, that did not explain the inexplicable hold he had over her. She knew she was _meant_ to love him; their undeniable connection was irrefutable proof. So did that mean that she loved him, at this moment? After pondering that question, she came to the conclusion that she didn't, but she knew it was only a matter of time. She needed time to know him, truly know him, until she could say with certainty that she was in love with him. Satisfied with her conclusion, she glanced up to see her Aunt and Jane smiling at her knowingly. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Mrs Gardiner smiled, "We are just wondering if you have figured it out yet?" At her nieces questioning look, she stated, "that you are in love with Mr Darcy."

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, I am not." At her Aunt and sister's incredulous looks, she declared emphatically, "I am not. Yet. I need time to be certain of my own feelings. I can't possibly be in love with the gentleman! I didn't know he existed six days ago!"

Jane said seriously. "But Lizzy, when you talk about him you positively glow with happiness." Tentatively she added, "I think you may be afraid to admit it to yourself."

Elizabeth straightened in surprise. "Why would I be afraid?" Her Aunt and Jane glanced at each other uneasily.

Mrs Gardiner said gently, "Lizzy, do you believe Mr Darcy is in love with you?"

Elizabeth shook her head, "No. But I know that he holds some affection for me. He would not wish to court me if he did not."

Jane and Mrs Gardiner exchanged worried looks. Jane hesitantly said, "Lizzy, please do not let our mother's false opinions affect your judgment when it comes to Mr Darcy."

Elizabeth was silent. What could she say? Her mother's words had already affected her judgment. Elizabeth cringed as she thought of the two instances where she had automatically assumed the worst about Mr Darcy. In the course of an hour she had believed he was a man who enjoyed the company of loose women and that he would leave her for his cousin. Sighing, she said so softly, that her Aunt and Jane had to lean forward to hear her over the sounds of the carriage, "I know what you are trying to say, Jane. I will try not to let my insecurities affect how I view my relationship with Mr Darcy."

"More importantly, that it will not keep you from admitting that you love him and he loves you. Because he does, Lizzy. A blind man could see it." Jane said gently, with a loving smile.

Elizabeth simply nodded her head in agreement. It was easier than disagreeing. Mr Darcy couldn't possibly love her. She knew he liked her very much, but love? She was not so unrealistic to concede that he could fall in love with her in so short a time. And six days was simply not enough time to know for certain. She was blissfully happy that he wished to pursue a courtship with her, but she would not allow herself to dream beyond that; it was much too painful to think of him severing their relationship. _He will never leave you._ The words came unbidden to her mind, filling her being with warmth. She smiled, knowing the words were true. She allowed her thoughts to drift to those beautiful moments in the garden when he had asked to court her. She blushed as she remembered the look in his eyes when she had said yes. Yes, she would simply dwell on those wonderful moments and forget her brief lapses of judgment and doubt. Mr Darcy was not deceitful, he was an honorable man in every sense of the word.

Moments later, the Gardiners largest carriage pulled up in front of Darcy House. As the carriage came to a stop, Elizabeth's heart beat increased and her breathing became irregular. She couldn't refrain from smiling brightly, her eyes sparkling with anticipated delight at the thought of being in Mr Darcy's presence again.

Jane laughed and said teasingly, "See, Lizzy. You're glowing."

Elizabeth laughed and shook her head, blushing slightly. "I am just excited to see Miss Darcy again."

Mrs Gardiner smiled, "Well then I better go and fetch her. Wait here girls. I'll be just a moment."

Mrs Gardiner climbed from the carriage and proceeded up the front steps. Before she cleared the top step, the front door opened and Miss Darcy came out in obvious excitement, followed immediately by Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Mr Darcy leaned over and whispered something in his sister's ear and she nodded her head eagerly before hastening down the front steps.

Elizabeth watched in growing amusement at the enthusiasm displayed by Miss Darcy as she practically leapt in the carriage to greet her.

Miss Darcy grasped Elizabeth's hands as she exclaimed, "Oh, Miss Elizabeth! I am so happy! I couldn't contain my excitement when brother informed me that you had agreed to a courtship." Miss Darcy was literally bouncing in her seat which caused Elizabeth and Jane to laugh.

"I am pleased that you think so, Miss Darcy." Elizabeth squeezed her young friends' hands as she looked up and saw Mr Darcy and her Aunt waiting to enter the carriage. Mr Darcy had an indulgent smile on his face as he gazed at his sister in obvious affection. He met her eyes and they softened imperceptibly as his smile grew.

"Well, I think we are ready to embark on an adventurous afternoon of shopping." Mrs Gardiner enthused as she entered the carriage with the assistance of Mr Darcy. Mr Darcy followed behind her, taking the seat next to his sister and across from Elizabeth.

Colonel Fitzwilliam poked his head in the carriage and said, "I echo the sentiments of my young cousin, Miss Elizabeth. We are all very pleased." With a wink at Elizabeth and a smirk at Mr Darcy he said his farewells.

"You are not joining us, Colonel?" Elizabeth asked politely.

The Colonel feigned a look of dismay as Mr Darcy and Miss Darcy laughed. "Of course not, Miss Elizabeth. My reputation would be ruined. To be seen at a modiste or milliners?" He shuddered, "Oh the horror." He smiled and said, "But I will be joining you later at Matlock House. Since my cousin abandoned me for your company this afternoon, I am headed to Whites." Colonel Fitzwilliam bowed and reached for the door of the carriage. Before closing the door he said firmly, pointing a finger at Darcy. "And don't you dare inform my mother of your courtship until I am there, or I cannot be responsible for what I may do." With a chuckle, he closed the door of the carriage.

The occupants laughed as Jane said in a slightly irritated tone, "Does he ever work? You would think with a war going on and unrest in the colonies, he would be at the War Office more often."

Elizabeth exchanged an amused look with Mr Darcy. He smiled slightly and said, "He is there; quite often, Miss Bennet. However, he is currently on leave."

"Oh."' Jane said softly, looking out the window.

Elizabeth studied her sisters profile contemplatively. Her sister was acting very unusual. She was normally very good natured and kind to a fault. But twice now she had referred to the Colonel in less than dulcet tones. She wondered if maybe Jane was developing some feelings for the Colonel. _That would be interesting_, she thought with amusement. She immediately sobered at the thought that Jane , like herself were practically penniless. The Colonel would never pursue her due to lack of a dowry, even if he harbored some feelings for her. She was not ignorant of the fact that as a second son, he would have to marry a rich heiress to maintain his standard of living. Maybe the Colonel does not care for such things? Elizabeth shook her head. Until she could ascertain her sister's feelings on the matter, it was no use speculating.

"So, where should we go to first? Miss Darcy, is there anywhere in particular you wish to go?" Mrs Gardiner smiled amiably at Miss Darcy.

"No, I am simply here to enjoy the company, Mrs Gardiner." Miss Darcy smiled brightly at Elizabeth. "I have no where in particular I need to go."

"Very well, then we will head to Harding Howell (1), the milliners, haberdashers, and finally to Madame Cecile's. Does that sound agreeable?"

Elizabeth had been watching Mr Darcy as her Aunt had listed off the various shops. His mien had become increasingly alarmed, his eyes growing wider in dismay. Elizabeth laughed lightly as she said teasingly, "You can always turn back, Mr Darcy. I promise we won't think the less of you."

Darcy shook his head. "No, Miss Elizabeth. I am here for the duration." He gave Elizabeth a significant look, and said, "You are stuck with me I'm afraid."

With a raised brow, Elizabeth said mischievously, "Then you won't mind if we add one more shop to our list?"

Suppressing a groan, Darcy said bravely, "Not at all, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth smiled and turning to her Aunt, asked, "Would it be alright if we stopped at Floris (2)? I would like to buy some fragrance."

Mrs Gardiner enthused, "Of course! What a wonderful idea, Lizzy."

A short time later, the carriage stopped in front of Harding Howell and Co at Pall Mall. Darcy quickly exited the carriage to assist the ladies, retaining Elizabeth's hand after assisting her from the carriage. He gently placed her hand around his arm and led her into the store behind Mrs Gardiner, Jane, and Miss Darcy.

Elizabeth was surprised, but pleased that Mr Darcy was so willing to openly acknowledge their new relationship. As they entered the bustling linen-drapers, the ladies separated to peruse the various fabrics. Jane headed towards a large variety of blue fabrics, while Miss Darcy drifted towards the yellow colored fabrics. Elizabeth remained near the door with Mr Darcy, trying to decide where to go. This was why she hated shopping; too many choices and too many people. She huffed lightly in frustration.

Mr Darcy looked down at her in amusement. "Where would you like to look, Miss Elizabeth?" Darcy eyed the wall to their left which had several fabrics in varying shades of green.

Noticing the direction of Mr Darcy's gaze, Elizabeth's eyes brightened as she spied the beautiful green fabrics. Smiling, she nodded her head in that direction. As they walked, Elizabeth asked, "Do you have a favorite color, Mr Darcy?"

"I do."

Raising a brow, Elizabeth asked with amusement, "Are you going to share it with me?"

Darcy looked down at Elizabeth and with a secretive smile, said, "Green."

Elizabeth eyed his deep blue waistcoat and said teasingly, "Judging by your waistcoat, I would have thought your favorite color would be blue."

They stopped in front of the green fabrics and Darcy leaned in slightly and in a low voice said, "I do like blue. However on you, I would have to say I prefer green. Although, lavender is quickly becoming a favorite as well."

Elizabeth looked at Mr Darcy, meeting his intense gaze with a warm one of her own. A woman slightly jostled her, bringing her back to the present. She briefly glanced around to determine if they had been noticed. It was so easy to lose herself when she was in Mr Darcy's presence, she had to remember that they were in a very public place. She immediately noticed an older woman nearby who was watching them with avid interest. Elizabeth turned away, blushing slightly.

Darcy noticed her discomposure and looked down at her in concern. "Is something wrong, Miss Elizabeth?"

"We are being observed," she said quietly, discreetly moving away from Mr Darcy as she stepped closer to peruse a particularly fine green muslin. She reached out and fingered it lightly. In a more proper tone, she said, "I have always preferred white, but I find that green is my new favorite as well."

Darcy causally glanced around in a detached manner, his face reserved. In a low voice, so quiet she could barely hear him, he said "You are beautiful no matter what you wear, Miss Elizabeth. But green makes you particularly radiant."

Elizabeth's eyes shot to his before glancing away in embarrassment. "Thank you."

Darcy nodded once and turned, looking for his sister. "I think I will go and assist my sister, Miss Elizabeth. At least until this old biddy finds something else to capture her interest."

"Is she still looking this way?" Elizabeth said quietly under her breath.

"Yes. She is not being very discreet about it." Darcy said sardonically.

Elizabeth sighed. "I am sorry, Mr Darcy. I know how you value your privacy." Elizabeth was mortified. After last night at the Opera, she knew that Mr Darcy wanted to keep the gossips away from them as much as possible.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Miss Elizabeth. I refuse to hide. I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable." Darcy turned slightly causing his arm to brush lightly against her.

Elizabeth glanced at Mr Darcy from the corner of her eye. "You have never made me uncomfortable, Mr Darcy," she said softly.

Without looking at her, he smiled. "I am glad. Now I will go to my sister." Darcy bowed slightly before leaving.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and focused her attention on the fine fabrics in front of her. As soon as Mr Darcy left, the older woman who had been observing them so acutely come up beside her. Boldly, Elizabeth turned to the woman and said in an overly cheerful voice, "Isn't this fabric divine? I am trying to decide which would be more suitable."

The older woman looked at her with barely concealed glee in her eager eyes. She unashamedly looked Elizabeth up and down, her gaze speculative. "Suitable for what dearie? A wedding gown perhaps?" She raised her brows in amusement, her gaze moving to Mr Darcy who was some distance away with his sister.

Elizabeth had to force herself to remain calm. If only she knew who this woman was! Judging by her apparel she was very wealthy. Although her taste was rather garish and bordered on the indecent, especially for a woman her age. With a confused look, she said with a laugh, "A wedding gown? Of course not. I meant for a ball gown. Won't this look lovely with a bit of blonde lace?" Elizabeth smiled, her heart racing.

"Hmmm, yes. A ball gown." The older woman perused Elizabeth again and said, "Your first season, dear?"

"Yes, madam." What did this woman want with her? She decided to be direct rather than evade what the woman really wanted to ask her. Meeting the woman's gaze boldly, she asked, "Is there something in particular you wished to ask me, madam?"

Startled, the woman stared at her for a moment, before smiling widely. "I like you." She laughed delightfully. "Yes, I like you very much. He chose well, very well indeed."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, when her Aunt bustled up with a clerk laden with several bolts of cloth.

"Why Lady Worthington! How do you do?" Mrs Gardiner smiled amiably. Gesturing to Elizabeth, she said, "I see you have met my niece."

Lady Worthington stared at Elizabeth. "This is your niece, Marianne? Well, well. Lady Eleanor will be pleased."

Elizabeth gave her Aunt a confused look, and in a low voice asked, "Perhaps you could introduce us, Aunt?"

"Oh forgive me, where are my manners? Lizzy, may I present Sophie Newton, The Viscountess of Worthington? Lady Worthington, my niece, Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

Elizabeth curtsied. "It is pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady."

"Likewise, Miss Elizabeth." Without preamble, she asked "So, how long have you and Mr Darcy been courting?"

Elizabeth stared at Lady Worthington, mouth agape. Well, the woman's candor could not be denied. What should she say? "I am not sure I understand you, my lady."

Lady Worthington raised her brows, "No? Well, I guess I should not be surprised. Darcy is considered the most private man of the _ton_, he's always kept his cards very close to his chest."

Elizabeth was at a loss as to what she should say. Thankfully, her Aunt intervened, directing Lady Worthington's attention to the many bolts of fabric she had found. Elizabeth politely listened to the exchange, her mind whirling. She was praying this Lady Worthington was not a notorious gossip. If she was, her courtship with Mr Darcy would be the talk of London by the morrow. It would not be long before the society section of the newspaper caught wind of it. If that happened, her mother would find out...Elizabeth's heart dropped at the thought.

Lady Worthington bid them farewell. Before she left, she leaned in and whispered, "No need to worry about my saying anything, Miss Elizabeth. I of all people understand the need for discretion." With a wink and a wave, Lady Worthington departed.

Elizabeth turned to her Aunt with a questioning look. "Should I be worried, Aunt?"

Mrs Gardiner smiled. "Not at all, Lizzy. Lady Worthington is a good soul if a bit...eccentric. She will respect your privacy. Although, I would not be surprised if she expects to be invited to certain events where you and Mr Darcy are present. She lives for romance."

Elizabeth's brows lowered in thought. "She said she understood the need for discretion. What did she mean by that?"

Mrs Gardiner laughed. "That is not something that should be discussed in the middle of the linen-drapers, Lizzy. But she is right, she will not gossip about your business."

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, I am done looking. Should we find the others?" Elizabeth looked around for Mr Darcy, Jane and Miss Darcy.

"Did you even have a chance to look, Lizzy? " inquired Mrs Gardiner as she perused the green fabrics. "How beautiful." She reached out and fingered the same fabric Elizabeth had been admiring before. "This would be lovely on you, Lizzy." Not waiting for her nieces permission, she gestured to the clerk to take the bolt of fabric.

"Oh please, Aunt. I am not in need of another gown." Elizabeth argued.

"Nonsense, a woman can never have too many gowns. Let us spoil you, Lizzy."

Elizabeth sighed in defeat. She knew there was no use arguing with her Aunt. She was a force to be reckoned with when she set her mind on something. "Very well. But I still think it is unnecessary."

Mrs Gardiner winked at her niece, moving away to the long counter on one side of the store where the fabric was cut.

Elizabeth followed her Aunt, her mind lost in thought. If Lady Worthington had been able to figure out that she and Mr Darcy were courting, others would as well. If they didn't want all of London to know, they would have to be careful. She was grateful that Mr Darcy was so private; she didn't want their relationship to be gossiped about. The more people who knew, the more likely it would get back to her mother. Besides, if Mr Darcy changed his mind, it would be easier to overcome the disappointment if it was not generally known. Her thoughts were interrupted by Miss Darcy, who approached her in an excited manner.

"Oh, Miss Elizabeth! I found the most beautiful fabric. Just look!" Miss Darcy pointed to a clerk who was carrying several bolts of cloth.

Elizabeth laughed. "You could rival my Aunt in your enthusiasm for shopping, Miss Darcy." Miss Darcy smiled, moving off to join her Aunt at the counter.

Mr Darcy came up beside her and in a low voice, asked, "Are you well, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth looked up at Mr Darcy to see a concerned look on his face. She wondered if he had noticed her interaction with Lady Worthington. "Yes, I am well." Something must have shown on her face, because Mr Darcy searched her face, unconvinced.

Darcy sighed. "Please don't hide your feelings from me, Miss Elizabeth. I noticed you talking with that woman after I left. Did she say anything to upset you?"

"Lady Worthington?" Elizabeth looked down and said quietly, "She asked me how long we had been courting."

Darcy sighed in obvious relief, "Is that who it was? Well, we don't need to worry. She is not a gossip." _Although, I wonder what favor she will ask in exchange?_

Elizabeth stared at Mr Darcy in surprise. "You know her?"

"I know _of_ her." Seeing Elizabeth's surprised look, he smiled. "She is harmless, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth felt the last of her concern dissolve in light of Mr Darcy's self-assurance. "How can you be so sure? If she noticed something between us, others will as well."

Mr Darcy smiled and shook his head. "She is unusually astute, Miss Elizabeth. Besides, she is constantly looking for tidbits of gossip. She lives for it."

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth was confused. Her Aunt had said something similar, but had not elaborated.

"I am sure you will find out at my Aunt's." Darcy said wryly. Elizabeth huffed in annoyance, causing Darcy to laugh lightly. "Come, Miss Elizabeth. I believe our party is ready to depart. Off to the milliner's, was it?" He offered his arm and led her to the waiting carriage.

As the afternoon progressed, Elizabeth lost interest somewhere between the milliner's and haberdashers. Even the beautiful designs at Madame Cecile's had not elicited more than mild interest. She was tired and slightly irritable, overwhelmed with all the sights and sounds of a bustling London during the height of the _season_. She had felt constantly on edge, looking over her shoulder for other busybodies out to pry into her private affairs. She was grateful to be in Mr Darcy's presence; although, with each shop they visited he became more and more taciturn and withdrawn.

Elizabeth was listening with mild amusement as Miss Darcy enthusiastically described the various things she had seen that day. Sharing an amused look with Mr Darcy, she raised a brow and nodding in Miss Darcy's direction, mouthed, "Is this normal?" Mr Darcy smiled and nodded his head, heaving a long-suffering sigh. Elizabeth smiled, biting her lip to keep from laughing. The action caused Mr Darcy to stare at her lips, causing a blush to suffuse her face.

Before long, the carriage pulled up in front of Floris on Jermyn Street, their final destination. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief, causing the other occupants to laugh. As she exited the carriage, Elizabeth said teasingly to Mr Darcy in a quiet voice, "I think you need to let Miss Darcy out more often if she is this excited about a shopping trip."

"It's not the shopping trip, Miss Elizabeth. It's the company. She usually has to deal with me, and you've seen how...pleasant I can be on such excursions."

Elizabeth smiled. Yes, it was very apparent that Mr Darcy disliked shopping as much as she did, if not more. "Well, I am sure my Aunt would be happy to oblige Miss Darcy whenever she goes shopping. She would enjoy her company."

"Yes, Mrs Gardiner seems to be insatiable when it comes to shopping. I have never seen anything like it." Mr Darcy paused, before continuing. "Except for Georgiana."

Elizabeth laughed. "Well, I for one am glad that this is our last stop. I have had more then enough for one day." As they entered Floris, she took a deep breath, brightening considerably. She looked around in surprise, it was unusually empty.

Jane came up to her sister and asked tiredly, "Well Lizzy, what are you looking for?"

Elizabeth paused, considering. "I think I would like to try a new scent."

Jane looked at her sister in surprise. "But you always wear Orange Blossom."

"Yes, but I want to try something different." Elizabeth was surprised when Mr Darcy suddenly excused himself and left to join his sister. She shrugged, turning her attention back to Jane. "Although, I have no idea where to start."

Jane took her sister's arm, leading her over to the long mahogany counter. "Well, let's ask."

After nearly ten minutes, Elizabeth was ready to concede and stay with her usual fragrance. She furrowed her brow in frustration, sniffing yet another scent that caused her to sneeze. "No, definitely not."

Mr Darcy came up next to her and discreetly slid a small bottle in front of her. She turned to him in surprise. "What's this?" She picked up the bottle and opened it. She tentatively brought the bottle under her nose and inhaled. She pulled back in surprise and delight. The scent was unique. She inhaled again, closing her eyes. It brought to mind gentle breezes and warm summer nights. It was relaxing and...sensual. She blushed slightly at the thought. It was exotic and it smelled heavenly. "This is delightful, what is it?"

"Jasmine." Mr Darcy said in a low tone. "I think this would particularly suit you, Miss Elizabeth. It's fragrance is exquisite, just like you."

Elizabeth turned slightly, meeting Mr Darcy's intense gaze. "Is this a suggestion or a request, Mr Darcy?" Elizabeth said with a raised brow.

Darcy gave her a slow, intimate smile that caused her insides to melt. "Jasmine has special meaning in different cultures. May I enlighten you, Miss Elizabeth?" Darcy's low voice invited her closer and wordlessly, she nodded. Softly, he said, "In India, Jasmine symbolizes hope. In China, the sweetness of women, and my particular favorite; the Hindus revere Jasmine as the perfume of love."

Elizabeth gazed into Mr Darcy's eyes and lost all rational thought. Breathlessly, she said, "I like it very much."

Darcy smiled slowly, "I thought you would."

Elizabeth looked at the price and gasped. Reluctantly she set the bottle down. "This is too expensive for me, I'm afraid."

Darcy picked up the bottle and leaning closer whispered, "I already bought it for you, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth looked at him in surprise and embarrassment. "I don't expect you to buy it for me, Mr Darcy. Indeed, it is not appropriate."

Darcy gave her a long look. "I know you don't expect it. As for it not being appropriate, I have to disagree. I am courting you, which to some is practically an engagement. It is expected that a suitor lavishes gifts on his intended, is it not?"

Elizabeth looked down unable to meet his gaze, not knowing what to say. She was in unfamiliar waters and she didn't know her way ahead. She didn't want to raise her hopes, despite his words eluding to their future. Raising her eyes to meet his, she smiled, "Thank you, Mr Darcy."

Darcy smiled and bowed. "You are most welcome, Miss Elizabeth." With a slightly roguish look, he added, "Although, I feel that it is really a gift for me as well."

Elizabeth raised a brow and said playfully, "I am sure all my partners at the next ball will thank you as well."

Mr Darcy growled softly and said, possessively, "There will be no other partners, Elizabeth. I am afraid I have never learned to share."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to respond, when the ladies in their party approached asking if she were ready to go. "Yes, I am ready." She gave Mr Darcy one last look, indicating that their conversation was not over.

With a feeling of relief, Elizabeth boarded the carriage on the way to Matlock House. She felt nervous flutters in her stomach at the thought of informing Lady Eleanor of her courtship with her nephew. She knew that Lady Eleanor liked her, but that did not follow she would be pleased with Mr Darcy's choice.

As Elizabeth exited the carriage, Mr Darcy squeezed her hand, giving her a reassuring smile. He offered his arm and together they followed the others up the steps to Matlock House. They were ushered in and quickly shown into the Parlor, where Lady Eleanor received guests.

Lady Eleanor Fitzwilliam, Countess of Matlock was considered one of the most venerated members of the _ton._ She was intelligent, forthright, unaffected by false flattery and was known for her sound advice and matchmaking abilities. Her opinion mattered, and every society mama, with unmarried daughters sought her approbation and support in the hopes of making an advantageous match. More than one marriage had come about by the suggestion and subtle maneuverings of The Countess of Matlock.

To her few intimate acquaintances, Lady Eleanor was an unswervingly loyal and devoted friend and ally. Elizabeth was extremely grateful that her Aunt was one of Lady Eleanor's trusted friends. It gave her hope that she would receive the news of her courtship with happiness rather than censure.

As they were announced, Elizabeth immediately noted the presence of Lady Worthington, sitting contentedly next to Lady Eleanor. Elizabeth's heart beat painfully in her chest as she made her curtsey. What was she doing here? Elizabeth glanced at her Aunt and was surprised to see her looking unaffected by Lady Worthington's presence. Indeed, she looked as if she expected it.

Mr Darcy gave her a small smile and whispered, "All will be well. Don't worry."

Lady Eleanor stood at their entrance and embraced Mrs Gardiner before turning to her niece. She fussed over Miss Darcy for a moment, expressing how happy she was to see her. She then turned to Jane and warmly greeted her, commenting that she had grown even more beautiful since the Autumn. Finally, she turned her sharp grey eyes on Elizabeth and Darcy. She gazed at them for a moment, her expression unreadable. She noted Elizabeth's arm wrapped securely in Darcy's. She stared at them for so long, that Elizabeth shifted uneasily, glancing up at Mr Darcy nervously.

Finally, Lady Eleanor laughed. "Relax, Miss Elizabeth. It is so good to see you again, my dear." Turning to her nephew, her eyes bright and expectant., she asked, "I believe you have some news for me?"

Darcy cleared his throat and asked, "Is Richard here yet?"

Lady Eleanor huffed. "What does my son have to do with your news, Darcy?"

"Just that he threatened me and Georgiana with all but bodily harm if I said anything before he could arrive."

Elizabeth looked at Mr Darcy in amusement. She leaned over and whispered, "I fear your Aunt's wrath more than the Colonel's."

"That's because you've never seen the wrath that Richard is capable of, Miss Elizabeth." Darcy said wryly. "Believe me, it is not a pleasant sight."

Lady Eleanor leveled a severe look at her nephew. "Have you ever seen my wrath, Darcy? Because believe me, if you keep me waiting any longer for the news I have been waiting for then my son's anger will seem tame by comparison."

Darcy smiled good-naturedly. "Very well. You probably..."

"Wait!" All eyes turned to the door where an out of breath Colonel Fitzwilliam stood, panting slightly. Walking over to Darcy he pointed a finger and said, "It's a good thing I arrived when I did or you would never hear the end of it." He quickly walked over and taking a seat beside Jane, leaned back and with a languid wave of his arm, said, "You may proceed, I am ready."

Everyone laughed as Darcy shook his head in exasperation. Elizabeth didn't miss the slightly annoyed look, Jane directed towards the Colonel. _I definitely need to speak with Jane._

All eyes turned expectantly towards Elizabeth and Darcy. Darcy took a deep breath and looking at Elizabeth said, "This morning I asked permission to court Miss Elizabeth and was rewarded with a favorable reply."

Lady Eleanor gasped, her hand coming to her mouth. Her eyes filled with tears as she rushed to Darcy and Elizabeth, attempting to embrace them both. "Oh, I can't tell you how happy this makes me." In a gesture reminiscent of her son, she pointed a finger at Darcy and said accusingly, "I told you Miss Elizabeth would be perfect for you. I wrote you about her last Autumn."

"Yes, along with several other ladies, if I recall correctly Aunt." Darcy said dryly. "You've been trying to match me since I was eighteen years of age."

Lady Eleanor waved a hand dismissively, "Oh, not that long, surely." Turning to Mrs Gardiner she exclaimed, "You should have told me directly, Marianne. Instead I have been waiting on the edge of my seat for at least an hour."

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked in confusion. "Were you expecting this news?"

Lady Worthington cleared her throat and said, "I came to visit Lady Eleanor shortly after leaving the linen-drapers. I may have mentioned that some advantageous news would be shared with her in short order."

Colonel Fitzwilliam burst out laughing. "This just gets better and better. How do you do, Lady Worthington. Fancy meeting you here."

Lady Worthington gave the Colonel a flirty wink and said, "Likewise Colonel." Standing, she said, "Well, I will take my leave now." Turning to Lady Eleanor, she said, "Thank you for your invitation on Friday. Until then, I bid you all farewell."

After Lady Worthington left, the room descended into silence. Finally Elizabeth asked in a slightly worried tone, "Will someone please explain to me what that was all about?" Darcy guided her to the sofa, sitting beside her. "Please don't worry, Miss Elizabeth. Lady Worthington's eccentricities are well known amongst the ton."

"But what exactly are her eccentricities? You all seem to think she is harmless, but did she or did she not invite herself to your dinner party, Lady Eleanor?" Elizabeth directed her question towards the room at large.

"Not exactly, my dear." Lady Eleanor said soothingly. "I was happy to invite her. She is a close acquaintance and she always adds flavor to small gatherings. I think that you will like her very much."

"But what was she doing here if not to inform you of our courtship? And how did she know?" Elizabeth was beginning to become distressed. Why not tell her instead of evading her questions?

Lady Eleanor turned to Miss Darcy who was listening with barely concealed interest. "Georgiana dear, would you mind playing our pianoforte? I believe it is slightly out of tune."

Miss Darcy looked at her Aunt, ready to protest until Darcy gave a slight shake of his head. She sighed in defeat. She would just press Richard later for what was said. "Very well, Aunt. I shall return momentarily."

"Take your time, dear." Lady Eleanor smiled at her niece as she left the room.

As soon as Miss Darcy left, Mrs Gardiner turned to her niece. "Lizzy, Lady Worthington, well, for lack of a better word, _collects _gossip, and I imagine secrets."

Jane said in surprise, "What does she do with it?"

"Nothing." Colonel Fitzwilliam turned to face Jane. "She simply lets them know that she knows and well..." he rubbed his chin, "They invite her to their gatherings, dinners, soirees, balls, that sort of thing."

"She blackmails them?" Elizabeth gasped in horror. What had she done? Why did she have to fall in this woman's net?

"No, no. Nothing of the sort." Lady Eleanor said reassuringly. "She would never tell; there is not a malicious bone in her body. It's more like a reward for finding out information that no one else knows. She is very well known by society and she is expected to be present. Indeed, no one thinks twice about her presence anymore." Lady Eleanor laughed, "I believe Lady Worthington is one of the most well connected people of the _ton._ She has been seen dining with Dukes and other illustrious personages of the land. I even heard a rumor she was present at one of the Prince Regent's soirees." She smiled at Elizabeth. "So please, don't worry, Miss Elizabeth. She is someone you want on your side."

"That's because if I anger her, she'll spread my business far and wide." Elizabeth muttered quietly, heard by no one but Darcy.

"That will not happen, Miss Elizabeth." Darcy said quietly.

"Well, I hate to break up your little tête-à-tête, Darcy and Miss Elizabeth, but I wish to know who else you've invited on Friday, Mother. Indeed, every time I see you the guest list becomes longer and longer." Colonel Fitzwilliam said wryly. "This small gathering is becoming not so small."

Lady Eleanor started suddenly and she gasped, "Oh dear, oh dear. What to do?" The normally composed Lady Eleanor stood and began pacing, wringing her hands. She turned to her son and asked, "you will come on Friday, yes?"

Richard looked at his mother in surprise. "I was planning on it, why?"

"I need you to charm a certain young lady."

Richard groaned. "Not again mother. I thought you reserved your matchmaking skills for Darcy."

"I did. I do. But now that he is officially courting Miss Elizabeth, Lady Emily will need an escort."

Darcy sat up in alarm. "What? Aunt, please tell me you did not invite the Pratt's?"

"Who are the Pratt's?" Elizabeth asked, a sinking feeling in her stomach. She had a feeling this would not end well.

Darcy looked at Elizabeth nervously. "Well, she ah..." Darcy tugged on his cravat. "She, that is..."

Richard laughed. "What my loquacious cousin is trying to say, Miss Elizabeth is Lady Emily is that rare breed of woman that when they get a certain idea into their head, they become tenacious in the pursuit of that idea."

Elizabeth raised her brow and said uncertainly, "And let me guess. That idea is to become Mrs Darcy?"

Richard gave Elizabeth a brilliant smile. "I knew you were as intelligent as you are beautiful, Miss Elizabeth. Quite unlike Lady Emily, who is as dimwitted as she is plain."

Lady Eleanor admonished her son. "Richard, that is unkind. Lady Emily is a proper young lady and she most definitely is _not_ plain. She is rather handsome, I think."

Elizabeth swallowed hard, a growing unease forming in her stomach. A beautiful, no doubt accomplished lady would be coming to dinner on Friday who was intent on securing Mr Darcy. _Her Mr Darcy._ Well, she would not let that happen.

Darcy rubbed a hand through his hair and said to his Aunt, "Why would you invite the Pratt's, Aunt?"

"Honestly, Darcy. I was not expecting you to come. I am well acquainted with Lady Sefton and I invited her on a whim, when she was here for tea on Monday."

Mrs Gardiner suggested, "well, we could always come another time, Eleanor. If you feel that it would be too much." She cast an anxious look at Elizabeth, trying to ascertain her mood. She was confident in her nieces' ability to remain composed under pressure, but even she did not know how she would react with another woman interested in the gentleman who was courting her.

"Nonsense, Marianne. I won't hear of it. The invitation still stands. I hope you will all come." Lady Eleanor smiled warmly at her guests.

"Oh, I would not miss it for anything, Mother." Richard said cheerfully. "I would be happy to escort the lovely, Lady Emily. I am rather looking forward to her reaction when she realizes she has to put up with me rather than Darcy." He laughed good-naturedly.

Jane shot a brief look akin to disgust at the Colonel before turning to Lady Eleanor. "I am very much looking forward to it, my lady. Thank you for the invitation."

"Not at all, Miss Bennet. I am so happy you and Miss Elizabeth decided to come for the _season_." With a wink in her nephews direction, she added, "especially in light of this wondrous news."

Darcy smiled at his Aunt. "That reminds me, Aunt. Miss Elizabeth and I would both like to keep our courtship as quiet as possible."

Lady Eleanor raised her brows. "Well, I guess that should not surprise me. I don't blame you Darcy. The _ton_ would be scrutinizing your every move; more than they usually do. Not to mention Miss Elizabeth. I remember Lord Matlock trying to court me with the eyes of society on us. It was less than pleasant and led to some very embarrassing misunderstandings between Lord Matlock and myself. I would not wish that on the two of you. So rest assured. I will keep my own counsel." She smiled reassuringly. "You don't mind if I tell your Uncle, do you Darcy?"

Darcy shook his head. His Uncle could be trusted, their heir on the other hand..."Not at all, but perhaps, it would be best if you didn't mention it to..."

"Hugh?" Lady Eleanor laughed. "Not to worry, Darcy. I know my wayward son is not very ah...discreet."

Richard laughed, "That's putting it lightly, Mother. Hugh is..."

"Richard, need I remind you that we have ladies present?" Lady Eleanor leveled a stern look at her younger son.

Richard shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Forgive me, ladies. I forgot myself for a moment."

"Thank you, Aunt. I..." Darcy glanced at Elizabeth, "_We_ really appreciate your assistance in this matter."

"So I guess that means the Pratt's will not be informed?" Richard asked innocently.

Darcy groaned. The Pratt's. What horrible timing his Aunt had. If she had invited them last week he could have avoided this entire mess. He turned to Elizabeth, searching her expression for any hint of discomfort. He would not expose her to the machinations of Lady Emily. He could barely tolerate her with equanimity. He could not imagine being in Elizabeth's place and having to watch as another fawned over the object of his interest.

Elizabeth smiled and said quietly, "Do not worry on my account, Mr Darcy. I can handle one night of an exceedingly handsome and accomplished lady making eyes at you." She shrugged and said, "Besides, it is only fair. You had Sir Reginald to contend with at tea on Monday and last night at the Opera."

"That is true." Darcy said thoughtfully. He never considered Lynton as a real rival for Elizabeth's affections, he was too sure of Elizabeth, of them. "Please know, you have nothing to worry about. I would not even attend if you were not going."

Elizabeth smiled and said simply, "I know."

A throat cleared nearby, and Darcy and Elizabeth turned to bestow identically annoyed looks at the Colonel, causing him to laugh. "Oh good, you are aware of others in the room. I was beginning to wonder, you were so lost in each other's company to the exclusion of everyone else."

Darcy shook his head and before he could reply, Richard forestalled him and said, "Careful what you say, Darcy or I may just find something else to occupy my evening come Friday, and you can deal with Lady Emily on your own."

Darcy paled slightly and sighed heavily. "Very well, cousin. I'll keep my unflattering comment to myself."

"Smart, cousin." Richard stood and kissing his mother on the cheek said, "Well, now that the fun is over, I will leave you to talk about mundane things like the weather." He bowed to Mrs Gardiner, Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, "Ladies, always a pleasure." And with that, he left as quickly as he had come.

"That man thinks entirely too much of himself." Jane muttered quietly to herself, unaware that she was heard by all occupants of the room.

Elizabeth exchanged an amused look with her Aunt, while Lady Eleanor raised her brows in surprise and satisfaction. Darcy looked at Elizabeth's older sister, a contemplative expression on his face. _I need to speak with Richard. _

"Well, I am glad that is all settled. We shall have a lovely evening on Friday." Lady Eleanor enthused. "I think it will turn out to be quite interesting." She winked at Elizabeth and Darcy.

Darcy groaned slightly, causing Elizabeth to laugh softly. "Come now, Mr Darcy. How bad could it be?"

_Oh Elizabeth, you have no idea._ Darcy prayed that the Pratt's would cancel, but he knew that was not likely. Not if Lady Emily harbored even the smallest hope that he would be present. He would just have to hope that Richard was effective in distracting that harpy away from him and Elizabeth. He glanced at Elizabeth and smiled in contentment. Even if all the young ladies of the _ton_ stood between him and Elizabeth, he would still choose her. He was sure of it.

A/N: Well, another long one. Be grateful you got this today; it was exceedingly difficult to find time the last few days to write. With the holiday on Monday, sick kids and an extra busy husband, this was the chapter that almost wasn't. But I was determined and where there is a will, there is a way.

So how did you like Lady W? What secrets could she know, I wonder? What do you think/want to happen at the dinner party? I have fun stuff planned; poor Lady Emily won't know what hit her ;)

And just what is up with poor Jane?

Please leave me a review. I apologize for not rewarding my reviewers this time. Like I said, I had to use every spare moment to get this written and posted in time.

Thank you all for your support of my story! Now click that box and tell me how awesome I am! :-)

(1) Harding Howell and Co was a very popular linen-draper shop, located in Pall Mall.

(2) Floris is an actual fragrance shop still in existence today at no 89 Jermyn Street. Has anyone ever been there? I have to admit, it is one of the places on my "to see" list when I finally visit England. So if there are any Londoners reading my story, go and visit for me, okay?

I am going to post some websites on Regency History on my profile in the next day or so for those who are interested.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 16

Darcy reluctantly bid farewell to Elizabeth in front of Darcy House a short while later, smiling warmly at her before exiting the Gardiners carriage, followed closely by his sister. At his urging, his sister invited Elizabeth and her sister to tea the next day, so he was content that he would see her then. He entered his study, sitting down behind his desk. He took the time to reflect on this momentous day, the day Elizabeth agreed to a courtship. He leaned back, unable to prevent a smile from suffusing his face. He closed his eyes and sighed in contentment; calculating how soon he could make her his. Autumn would be a good time to be married, or maybe during the winter; his parents had married in November. But for now, he wanted to take his time and allow Elizabeth plenty of time to know him and more importantly to trust him completely. He suspected that other than Mr Gardiner, Elizabeth did not have many strong, protective males in her life.

Darcy felt his anger rise at the thought of Elizabeth's father. What kind of man allowed his own daughter to be treated so callously by her mother? How could he stand by and watch without doing anything? Although he had never met Mr Bennet, he could not respect a man who obviously had no control over his household. He blamed Mr Bennet for the unhappiness of his wife. He did not know the particulars of their situation, but the Master of the House was responsible for the well being and protection of those under his care. It was obvious to Darcy that Mr Bennet had failed spectacularly in that regard.

He could forgive Mr Bennet for his apathy towards his family if not for the toll it had taken on Elizabeth's self confidence and lack of self worth. He blamed Mr Bennet as much as his wife. He leaned forward, running his hands through his hair. Knowing what Elizabeth had to endure on a daily basis from a bitter mother and apathetic father, she was truly a remarkable woman. She did not allow her self doubt to influence how she treated others. Even in the short time he had known her he found her to be kind, loyal, generous, intelligent, witty, and sincere. There was nothing false about her. In a world that valued status, wealth, and connections, it was difficult to meet persons who were truly genuine.

Because of his mother's dream of Elizabeth, he had been spared moving in high society and being influenced by society's view of the perfect woman; a combination of birth, connections and wealth. He scoffed. What absolute rubbish! The _ton_ cared little for the state of a person's character, mind or heart; of which Elizabeth had in abundance. It put him in mind of the scripture of casting pearls before swine. Elizabeth was a rare pearl, easily overlooked amidst the filth of London society. And she was _His._

Richard entered Darcy's sanctuary without ceremony, coming to a stop in front of his cousin. Darcy was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, a small smile on his face. With a smirk, Richard removed his watch to note the amount of time that passed before his lovesick cousin was aware of his presence.

After a full three minutes, Richard snapped his watch shut and said drolly, "Well, you are either asleep and having a very good dream, or you are deliberately ignoring me."

Darcy opened his eyes and smirked at his cousin. "Neither, I was waiting to see how long you would stand there before saying something." Darcy pointed a finger at his cousin, "You despise silence as much as I relish it."

Richard sat across from Darcy, leaning back comfortably. "That is not true. I can stand the silence. In fact I find that I prefer it when in the company of certain people who shall remain nameless." Richard sat up suddenly and exclaimed, "Why am I surrounded by mindless individuals? It makes me wonder if they even listen to themselves as they spout such nonsense. Because I am convinced if they did they would never speak again from mortification."

Darcy stared at Richard, perplexed. He was unusually agitated. "Something troubling you, Richard?"

"What? No, of course not." Richard stood up and began pacing, his expression dark.

Darcy couldn't repress his laughter. His cousin's behavior was so reminiscent of his own recent behavior, but six days ago? He ran a hand through his hair. Could his life have changed so dramatically in such a short time? He smiled and shook his head in wonder. Amazing what a woman could do for a man's outlook on life. He looked up to see Richard scowling at him. He sat up in surprise. "What?"

"Could you refrain from laughing at me? I am having a bit of a personal crisis and I need to think."

Darcy immediately sobered. "Of course, Richard. What personal crisis are you referring to?"

Richard sat down with a slight huff. Without preamble, he said, "I may be sent back to the Iberian Peninsula." (1)

"What? When? Why?" Darcy was astounded. The family had been so relieved when Richard had been posted at the War Office after spending close to two years on the continent, before receiving his new assignment. Darcy had understood that it was permanent unless Richard requested a transfer.

Richard sighed. "There is talk that the Americas will declare war. (2) If that happens, they will need every able bodied soldier. We can't fight a war on two fronts, not without...sacrifices. I may be sent back."

"But I thought that it was your choice. They need men at the War Office. Why can't they send someone else?"

Richard said in exasperation, "They need experienced soldiers, Darcy. Leaders, not new recruits who have never seen war."

Darcy looked searchingly at his cousin. Quietly he asked, "Are you thinking of selling out?"

Richard was silent for so long, Darcy thought he would not answer his question. Finally, after some time, Richard simply said, "I don't know."

Darcy was silent, waiting for his cousin to speak. He knew Richard had more to say or he would not have sought him out. Although, Darcy had offered to give Richard one of his lesser estates, he knew that he would never take him up on it. Richard was a man of action. He was born to be a soldier, a leader of men; not a gentleman farmer. He was never one to make safe choices, but he always made the right ones. Darcy did not know a better or more honorable man than his cousin.

Richard stood and began pacing again slowly with his head down, a deep contemplative expression on his face. He stopped and looked at Darcy, his face resolute. "Darcy, I love being a soldier. I am honored to serve King and country, but lately I've found myself wanting something _more._ And I don't know how to reconcile what I have with what I want."

Darcy frowned. "Why do you need to choose one over the other? Is this a choice between remaining in the army and selling out?"

Richard shook his head, "No, it is a decision of remaining in the army and...settling down."

Darcy was shocked. Of all the things he thought Richard would say, that was the very last. Richard was a confirmed bachelor and had been consistently vocal about not marrying. "What has changed your mind?"

Richard stared at Darcy and with a slight smile, said, "you."

Darcy raised his brows. "Me? What do you mean?"

Richard rolled his eyes. "What do I mean? Darcy, you are deliriously happy. All because of a woman."

Darcy smiled and shook his head, "not just any woman, but the _right _woman."

Richard nodded. "I have never considered marrying. Never. I find that I am rather jealous. I wish for that same type of connection you have with Miss Elizabeth, it is..." Richard frowned, "it is a wondrous thing and I find that I want that as well."

"But why do you have to choose? You can still marry and stay in the army."

Richard shook his head angrily. "No. Never. I promised myself I would never be that selfish. I have seen too many soldiers, too many friends die. Soldiers with wives, families. Do you have any idea how those families live after their husbands and fathers are gone? No, I could never do that! I refuse to ask a woman to marry a man who may not come home."

Darcy was silent. He didn't know what to say. He respected Richard's decision, even if he didn't agree with it. Love was a wondrous thing, as his cousin so eloquently put it. It made the pain of any sacrifice worth it in the end. Darcy knew if he only had a short amount of time with his Elizabeth, he would take it over not having her at all. Now that she was in his life he couldn't imagine his life without her. He believed he would sacrifice anything to have her by his side.

"Richard." Darcy said softly, "Maybe this would be an easier decision if you were in love, or had some affection for a lady. And if that is so, then ask her what she wishes. She has a right to choose, Richard. Don't make the decision for her."

Richard looked at Darcy, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You didn't offer one of your estates if I decide to sell out."

"Would you accept such an offer? Because the offer stands, permanently."

Richard huffed a laugh. "No, I think I would go mad with such a life as you lead, cousin. No offense."

Darcy smiled, "none taken. You just stated your preference, you know."

Richard sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Yes, I know. I always knew there was never really a choice. Now, I just have to live with it."

Darcy leaned forward, his clasped hands resting on the desk in front of him. He said solemnly, "You didn't say whether there was a certain lady that had captured your interest." Darcy had his suspicions but he wanted Richard to tell him.

Richard smiled, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "And if I said it was Miss Elizabeth?"

Darcy snorted. "If I truly believed that, I would run you through if you came within a foot of her."

Richard laughed. "Of that I have no doubt. No, your Miss Elizabeth is safe from me." He looked at his cousin and smiled. "I am truly happy for you, Darcy. Miss Elizabeth is perfect for you. She appears to compliment you in every way. I just hope I will be here to see your wedding."

"We'll wait until you can be."

Richard snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, Darcy. I don't see you waiting months, maybe years to make Miss Elizabeth your wife."

"No, I suppose not." Darcy knew when he became engaged to Elizabeth, it would be a matter of _weeks_ before he married her, not months.

Richard leaned forward, and with a roguish smile asked, "So, do you want to know how many painted horse tails I counted today?"

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Elizabeth and Jane sat in the carriage returning from taking tea at Darcy House. Elizabeth wore a soft smile, thinking of the pleasant afternoon she had spent with Mr Darcy, Miss Darcy and the Colonel. Immediately upon arriving, Mr Darcy had led her on a more thorough tour of his home. Alone. Elizabeth blushed as she recalled the many instances he had expressed his affection in small gestures; a firm hand on the small of her back, lightly tracing patterns on her hand. He had even brushed a wayward curl away from her face, his hand lingering briefly on her cheek; his eyes full of some strong emotion she was afraid to identify. As he led her through his home, he had shared stories of his ancestors; their histories, hopes and dreams. She found it fascinating and it was very clear that Mr Darcy was very proud of his heritage. Throughout the tour, he had made thinly veiled references to their future life together, which had caused her heart to soar with hope.

Elizabeth looked at Jane sitting across from her, studiously avoiding her gaze. Elizabeth sighed. Something was bothering her sister and she had a strong feeling it revolved around a certain handsome Colonel.

"Jane," Elizabeth's soft entreaty broke her sister's reverie.

"Not here, Lizzy," Jane said abruptly. She turned away from the window to look at her startled sister. "Forgive me. I just don't want to discuss it now. Please."

Elizabeth stared at her sister, concern furrowing her brow. "Very well. But you know you can tell me anything, Jane. Please tell me what is bothering you."

Jane sighed. "I will. I promise. Just not here. We will be at our Uncle's momentarily anyway. Not enough time to say what needs to be said."

Elizabeth nodded her head. "Very well." She leveled a firm look at her sister, "But I will hold you to your promise."

Jane smiled. "I would expect nothing less from you, Lizzy."

Late that night Elizabeth stood outside her sister's door, knocking softly. At Jane's soft, "come in, Lizzy," she quietly opened the door. Jane was sitting up in bed, obviously waiting for her. Elizabeth smiled, and climbed onto the bed to face her sister. Taking her hand she said softly, "Now, tell me what is bothering you."

Jane sighed softly, looking down. "It is rather silly, Lizzy. I fear I am making too much of well, nothing."

Elizabeth looked at her sister with understanding. She took a deep breath and asked, "Does this have to do with Colonel Fitzwilliam?"

Jane's head shot up and a blush suffused her face. "You were always too direct, Lizzy."

Elizabeth laughed, "yes, but I get results. Now, tell me what he has done."

"Nothing."

Elizabeth was confused. She was sure her sister's odd behavior towards the Colonel stemmed from something he had said or done. "What do you mean, nothing?"

Jane collapsed against her pillow. "I mean, he has done nothing."

Suddenly Elizabeth understood. Cautiously, she asked, "Jane, do you want him to do...something?"

Jane looked at her sister, her eyes wide. Shaking her head, she said, "I am not sure." She huffed, and in a rush of words, blurted out, "He is the most aggravating man I have ever met! He takes delight in others discomfort, he pokes fun at well, everyone, and he is incapable of being serious."

Elizabeth bit her lip to contain her laughter. Her sister was much more affected by the Colonel than she realized. "That is just his way, Jane. It makes him delightful company. Why should it bother you so?"

Jane exclaimed, "I don't know! He is the opposite of everything I thought I wanted in a man."

Elizabeth sat up. Now they were coming to the heart of the matter. "Jane, what do you want in a man?"

"I don't know anymore." Jane threw up her hands in frustration. " I am so confused, Lizzy! I wish I had never met him."

Elizabeth looked at her sister with compassion. "Has he given you any indication of his regard?"

Jane sat up, playing with a loose thread on the counterpane. "No. He has not."

Elizabeth frowned. She couldn't believe Jane was the only one feeling out of sorts. She was sure the Colonel was not unaffected by her sister. Who would not be? Jane was loveliness and perfect womanhood personified.

Softly, Jane said, "It doesn't matter anyway. He would not do anything even if he was inclined to."

Elizabeth was silent. She knew exactly what Jane was referring to. Hesitantly, she said, "The Colonel may not care that you have no money, Jane. When one is in love..."

"I am not in love, Lizzy. Nor is he. I don't know what I feel, but I know it is not love." Jane said firmly, "I may have a certain...fascination for the gentleman, but that is all. It will pass I am sure. Besides, he is a confirmed bachelor."

Elizabeth started in surprise. "Did he say that?"

Jane shook her head, "No, Miss Darcy mentioned it today while you were on your tour with Mr Darcy. But the Colonel did not contradict her." Jane gave her sister a sly look, "How was your tour, Lizzy? You were gone for over an hour."

Elizabeth shrugged nonchalantly, while a traitorous blush spread across her face. "Mr Darcy was telling me some fascinating stories about his ancestors. He..." Elizabeth stopped and looked at her sister accusingly. "Jane, don't try to distract me. We are talking about you, not me."

Jane laughed. "Very well, but you will have to explain why a simple house tour would cause you to blush." A look of alarm crossed her beautiful face. "He didn't do anything improper, did he Lizzy?"

Elizabeth looked down. She did not think Mr Darcy had done anything improper, but she knew her sister would think differently. "No, he did not. He eluded to his future...with me." Elizabeth looked at her sister with a radiant smile.

Jane sighed happily. "I am glad, Lizzy. But, I think more happened than you are saying," she said reproachfully.

Elizabeth sighed. "It was nothing really, Jane. He is very demonstrative of his affection, that is all."

"Lizzy! You didn't allow him to take liberties, did you?"

"No, of course not! I hardly think touching my hand is taking liberties, do you?" _And my back, my cheek, my hair._ Elizabeth blushed.

Jane narrowed her eyes at her sister. "Lizzy," she said warningly.

Elizabeth huffed. "Enough Jane. I know you are just stalling. We are here to talk about your feelings for the Colonel, not mine for Mr Darcy."

"What are your feelings for Mr Darcy?" At Elizabeth's censorious look, Jane laughed. "Very well. I will desist. For now."

Elizabeth smiled, relieved. She knew that she would have to be careful. It was a heady feeling to be courted by such a man as Mr Darcy; it was so easy to get lost in her emotions when she was in his presence. She shook her head, bringing her attention back to Jane who was giving her an indulgent smile. "Now, where were we? The Colonel is a confirmed bachelor? I think that is just a way of saying he hasn't found anyone to change his mind."

Jane smiled sadly. "Exactly."

"Oh Jane! Men can be rather dimwitted at times. You will be in his company frequently with me being courted by his cousin, so there will be plenty of opportunities for him to realize that he can't live without you."

Jane laughed and shook her head. "You can't make something happen just by wishing it, Lizzy. I don't even know if I want the Colonel's affections."

"Well, I don't think the Colonel is as unaffected as you believe, sister dear." Elizabeth said smugly.

Jane shot an amused look at her sister. "How would you know, Lizzy? You are too busy staring at Mr Darcy."

Elizabeth stared at her sister, open mouthed. "That is not true! Don't think it has escaped my notice that every time we have been in the Colonel's company he has chosen to sit by you, Jane. And you should have seen the look on his face when Sir Reginald offered to escort you at the Opera. He looked positively forlorn."

Jane blushed and smiled softly. She sat up and said, "Well, we shall see. All I will say is that I am not indifferent to the Colonel, but I am not expecting anything."

Elizabeth lay on her side, smiling up at her sister. "I am still curious about what you want in a man. Or rather, what you think you want in a man."

Jane looked at her sister contemplatively. "I always imagined myself with someone who was exceedingly amiable. As I am more reserved in company, it would be a good balance to be with someone who is more sociable. Also, someone who is trustworthy, steadfast, generous..."

"Handsome?" Elizabeth added with a raised brow.

"Of course." Jane said with a laugh.

Elizabeth looked thoughtfully at her sister. "You know, Jane. All those words describe the Colonel."

Jane looked at her sister in surprise. "I suppose you are right. However, I do not appreciate his penchant for making fun or how he delights in the discomfort of others, which I cannot tolerate."

Elizabeth protested. "But his intent is not malicious, Jane. He loves the ridiculous and finds folly in human nature."

"Everything to him is a joke. And I strongly suspect he had something to do with Sir Reginald's horses being painted green."

Elizabeth sat up in surprise. "Why do you say that?"

Jane looked at her sister incredulously. "Lizzy, he was positively giddy after the Opera and I distinctly saw him wink at his cousin when Sir Reginald got in his carriage. He did something, Lizzy. I just know it."

Elizabeth laughed, falling back on the bed. "Well, then remind me to thank him because I suspect it delayed Sir Reginald's arrival to the Opera."

"Lizzy!" Jane admonished her sister. "That doesn't excuse what he did to his horses! What if it harms them in some way?"

"It won't, Jane." With a sly smile, Elizabeth said, "Life with the Colonel would certainly never be dull."

Jane huffed. "It would turn your hair gray prematurely, that's for sure."

Elizabeth laughed. She leaned over and kissed her sister on her forehead. "Don't fret, Jane. I believe that if things are meant to work out, they will." With a parting smile, she left her sister to her thoughts. _Maybe Mr Darcy could shed some light on the Colonel's state of mind. _

A/N: A little shorter chapter this time. Sorry, I was feeling a little under the weather. This gives you a little more insight into what is going on in the heads of Jane and Richard. I admit, I am still trying to decide what to do with Richard - send him to the Iberian Peninsula? to the Americas? kill him off? (J/K I would never do that), keep him in the war office somehow? - ideas anyone?

As for Bingley, yes he will make an appearance, soon. Are you really that eager for the horror that is Caroline Bingley? Although, she does add flavor ;)

(1) Land that was being fought over in the Peninsular War (1807-1814) between Napoleon and GB/Spain/Portugal

(2) America declared war on GB on June 18, 1812

**Please review! I have part of the dinner party already written, so if you review you might get a little something in your inbox ;) **

**Thanks for your ****amazing**** support!**


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 17

Darcy ascended the steps to Matlock house with mixed feelings of dread and anticipation. He would have to watch his behavior around Elizabeth tonight as Lady Emily would be watching his every move. Of all the vindictive, heartless, calculating women of the _ton_, Lady Emily was among the worst. If she knew or even suspected his intentions towards Elizabeth, she would be merciless. He sighed. This was going to be a long night.

Richard slapped him on the back. "Relax cousin. I will take care of Lady Emily. You won't have to worry about her machinations tonight."

"Don't underestimate her, cousin." Darcy said under his breath.

Richard snorted. "Don't underestimate me, Darcy. Besides, I told you that Miss Elizabeth had more fortitude than a contingent of soldiers; she will be fine."

Darcy was silent. He had no doubt Elizabeth would be able to handle herself tonight. He suspected that exposure to her mother's censure made her unusually resilient to the attacks of others. But the last thing he wanted was to subject her to the spite of Lady Emily. He felt an intense desire to protect her from anything negative or unpleasant.

As Darcy and Richard were announced, a quick survey of the room revealed that the only guest who had arrived was Lady Worthington.

"Mr Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam. How wonderful to see you." Lady Worthington greeted them with a wide smile, a twinkle in her eye.

"A pleasure, Lady Worthington. How...well you look this evening." Darcy had to repress a grimace. Her attire was just another example of her eccentricities. She was dressed in the most horrible shade of bright yellow with a green turban, possessed with so many feathers that he didn't bother to count them. He imagined she could be seen a mile away.

Lady Worthington laughed loudly. "Why thank you, Mr Darcy. My husband said the same thing."

"Where is Lord Worthington this evening, my lady?" Richard asked politely.

"Where else, but at Whites?" She leaned in and said conspiratorially, "He wants to see if anyone else has used the color purple."

Darcy raised his brows as Richard tried to suppress his laughter. Darcy asked, "Used purple, for what?"

"Painting his horse tails, of course!"

Richard coughed and cleared his throat. "I don't recall seeing anyone else's horse tails painted purple but your own, my lady."

'"I should hope not." Lady Worthington said indignantly. "Lord Worthington would be most displeased."

Darcy was spared trying to come up with a suitable comment as Lady Eleanor approached with a bright smile. "I am so happy you decided to come, Darcy."

Darcy looked at his Aunt in surprise. "I said I would, Aunt."

Richard grinned. "He would not miss an opportunity to see the lovely Miss Elizabeth, even if it means enduring the company of Lady Emily."

Lady Worthington chuckled. "I have to admit I am very much looking forward to tonight. I expect it will be very...enlightening." She then turned and winked at Richard, a knowing smile on her face.

Darcy looked at Lady Worthington in confusion. What could she mean? He turned to Richard, but he refused to meet his gaze and abruptly excused himself to greet his Father, who had just entered the room. What was that all about? He frowned. He wondered if it had to do with Miss Bennet. He suspected she had something to do with Richard even considering selling out of the army and settling down. It had not escaped Darcy's notice that Richard had successfully diverted his attention when he had inquired if there was a certain lady who had captured his interest. He would have to observe the two of them tonight. _Maybe Elizabeth__will have some insights into her sisters state of mind._

The Gardiners, Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth were announced and Darcy turned eagerly to see Elizabeth. She entered the room last, looking around until she saw him. A slow smile spread across her face, her eyes lighting up with pleasure. He was vaguely aware of Lady Worthington chuckling next to him and mumbling something about young love, but Darcy was not paying attention. He wondered if there would come a time when Elizabeth entered a room without stealing his breath away. He imagined not.

He moved to greet her, perfunctorily greeting the Gardiners and Miss Bennet before bowing over Elizabeth's hand, bestowing a soft kiss. He looked up to see a delightful blush spread up from her chest to her face. As he stood, he immediately noticed that she was wearing the Jasmine scent he had bought her. He smiled, placing her hand around his arm and leading her to his Aunt and Uncle.

"You look beautiful, Elizabeth." He leaned in slightly, inhaling her intoxicating scent. "You wore the Jasmine." He stated softly.

Elizabeth looked at him with a smile, a teasing light in her brown eyes, "Of course. I have it on good authority that it is particularly suited to me. I felt I had to comply."

Darcy smiled, bringing his free hand to rest over hers. As they approached his Aunt and Uncle, he straightened imperceptibly. He released Elizabeth as she curtsied, greeting the dearest friends of her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner.

Lord Matlock smiled kindly at Elizabeth, "It is good to see you, my dear." He leveled a look at Darcy and said, "I understand that you have decided to give my nephew a chance to win you."

_I am already won._Elizabeth smiled. "More like the other way around, my Lord."

Lord Matlock grunted. "Nonsense, my dear. It is a testament of Darcy's intelligence that he has chosen you." He turned to his nephew, and said sternly, "Don't make a mess of it, my lad. Or I'll never speak to you again."

Elizabeth laughed as she looked up to meet Mr Darcy's eyes. Her laughter died as she met his intense gaze.

Without breaking Elizabeth's gaze, he said solemnly, "I won't, Uncle. I promise." Darcy wrapped her small hand around his arm again and led her away as his Aunt and Uncle greeted the Gardiners and Miss Bennet.

In a low voice, Darcy said, "Elizabeth, tonight I may act a little...distant, even cold towards you. Please don't be alarmed by it, but I..."

Elizabeth held up a hand. "I understand the need for discretion, Mr Darcy. I will not be offended."

Darcy searched Elizabeth's beautiful eyes. They held no uneasiness or discontent, but were open and warm. He smiled in relief. "Thank you, Elizabeth." He leaned in and whispered, "I promise I will make it up to you."

Elizabeth trembled at the intensity of his gaze. She opened her mouth to speak when the next guests were announced. Mr Darcy immediately stepped away from her with an apologetic look. She took deep breaths to calm her racing heart. As Lord and Lady Sefton entered, she raised her head and squared her shoulders to meet this paragon of womanly virtue, Lady Emily.

Lady Emily was announced after her parents had moved completely away from the door. She swept in as regal as a queen, head held high; possessed with a natural grace and poise, evidence of her aristocratic breeding. Elizabeth's breath caught and her shoulders drooped slightly. She was stunning. Ebony hair piled artfully on top of her head, fastened with silver combs, studded with what were no doubt diamonds. Her gown was an ice blue of gossamer silk, that floated around her perfect form artfully. She was tall for a woman; her features, delicate and finely formed.

As she drew nearer, Elizabeth's eyes widened in sudden recognition. She had been the young lady who had made the disparaging comment about Jane not being in the same class as Mr Darcy the night at the Opera. She had uttered those contemptible words that he 'need not shop amongst the cows.' Elizabeth was indignant. How dare she say such a thing about dear Jane?

She didn't notice Mr Darcy slowly come up beside her, until he was at her elbow. As Lady Emily was occupied with greeting Lord and Lady Matlock, Darcy whispered, "What is wrong, Elizabeth?"

"I recognize her."

Darcy glanced at her in surprise. "From where? When?"

Elizabeth said softly, "The night at the Opera. She was the one who made that disparaging comment about Jane. Do you remember? I told you what I overheard."

Darcy's eyes narrowed. "Yes. I remember," he said coldly. He should not be surprised such a comment had come from the mouth of that woman. Just another black mark on her already black heart. He didn't envy Richard his role tonight. Darcy noticed Lady Emily glancing in his direction coyly. He turned away slightly, rolling his eyes. She was no demure maiden. He was sure if he were close enough to see her eyes, they would hold a manipulative gleam. He reluctantly moved away from Elizabeth as her sister came to join her.

"What has you looking so grim, Lizzy?" Jane glanced at Lady Emily. "She is very beautiful."

"Nothing, Jane. I am well." Reluctantly she agreed that she was indeed beautiful. A proverb came to mind, and she muttered, "A fair face may hide a foul heart."

Jane looked at her in surprise. "Why do you say that, Lizzy? You don't know Lady Emily, do you?"

"I know of her, Jane." Elizabeth would not say more. She didn't want to reveal to Jane what she had overheard the night at the Opera. No need for Jane to think ill of the lady, if she could even be called that.

Lady Emily approached Darcy as a cat approaches a mouse, stealthy and eager. She was upon him before he even realized, so intent was he on Elizabeth's quiet conversation with her sister.

"Good evening, Mr Darcy," Lady Emily purred. She reached up to touch his arm, giving him a flirtatious wink. "How good to see you here. I am so glad you decided to grace us with your presence."

Darcy bowed and said with indifference, "Good evening, Lady Emily." He gestured to Elizabeth and Jane standing nearby and made the introductions.

Lady Emily gave Elizabeth a cursory glance before fixing her gaze on Jane. She blatantly looked Jane up and down, her eyes narrowed as she sized up her competition. Finally, she sniffed disdainfully and said, "Charmed, I'm sure."

Elizabeth was incensed. How dare she treat Jane so contemptuously! The effrontery of the woman. She had to force herself to take deep, even breaths. She would not stand for such rudeness, even if she was a Lady.

Thankfully, dinner was announced and everyone moved towards the dining room. Lady Eleanor approached with Richard trailing behind her. Turning to Lady Emily, she said, "Lady Emily, my son will escort you to dinner."

Lady Emily's eyes briefly flashed with a look of dismay before changing to coyness. She turned to Darcy and said, demurely, "I was hoping I could be escorted by Mr Darcy, Lady Matlock." She reached to take his arm, but Darcy deftly maneuvered out of her grasp.

"And deny me the pleasure of your company, Lady Emily? I am hurt." Richard clutched his chest as if in pain.

Lady Emily tittered. She reluctantly took the Colonel's arm, glancing up at Darcy and smiled seductively. "I will allow your cousin to usurp your place, Mr Darcy if you promise to turn the pages for when I perform on the pianoforte later." Darcy simply bowed his head in acknowledgement. With a triumphant glance at Jane, she allowed the Colonel to lead her into the dining room. As they passed Jane, the Colonel extended his other arm.

"Miss Bennet, my other arm is lonely. Would you do me the honor?" The Colonel smiled at Jane.

Jane looked at the Colonel for a moment, an unreadable expression on her face before taking his arm. "Of course, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Thank you."

"Darcy, if you would escort Mrs Gardiner and Miss Elizabeth?"

Darcy sighed in relief and gratitude. "It would be my pleasure." Turing to Elizabeth he offered his arm with a smile. As she took it he leaned in and whispered, "Don't do anything rash, Elizabeth."

"Whatever do you mean, Mr Darcy? I would not dream of doing anything reckless."

"You're planning something. I can tell by that mischievous glint in your eyes." Darcy walked up to Mrs Gardiner and offered his other arm. "Just be careful. Lady Emily can be spiteful."

"Your warning is noted, Mr Darcy." Elizabeth said quietly.

Darcy assisted Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner to their seats and happily took the seat next to Elizabeth, on the right of his Aunt. He noted with a groan that Lady Emily was seated across from him to the left of his Aunt. Thankfully, Richard was seated on Lady Emily's other side. He hoped Richard made good on his promise and occupied Lady Emily's attention.

Quiet conversation commenced as the first course was served. Predictably, Lady Emily attempted several times to engage Darcy in conversation, but was thwarted each time by the Colonel diverting her attention away. Lady Eleanor smiled and winked at Elizabeth after each occurrence.

Elizabeth was able to relax and enjoy her soup. She alternated between conversing with her Aunt on her right and Mr Darcy on her left. She also observed her sister and the Colonel seated across from her, but she detected nothing out of the ordinary. However, each time the Colonel had to engage Lady Emily in conversation, he appeared slightly disgruntled to have to divert his attention away from her sister. Each time this happened Jane would frown slightly. As she was intent on observing her sister she suddenly felt a leg press up against hers under the table, causing her to slightly choke on her soup. She sipped her water, discreetly clearing her throat as she glanced at Mr Darcy from the corner of her eye. His face gave nothing away, except for an imperceptible smile on his face.

Mrs Gardiner leaned over and whispered, "are you well, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth nodded her head as she sat up straight in her chair; contemplating what she should do. As she debated, Mr Darcy moved his foot behind hers, pushing it forward slightly so their legs were touching from their ankles to past her knees. Her eyes widened as she blushed. Well, two could play at this game. Elizabeth slid her foot back slightly and ran it up the back of Mr Darcy's calf, smiling triumphantly when she heard him choke on his soup, causing him to cough loudly.

Elizabeth turned and with a raised brow said softly, "You should take care Mr Darcy. Don't take more than you can handle."

Darcy stared at Elizabeth, a small smile on his lips. In a low voice, he answered, "you are perfectly correct. I will be sure to weigh the risks before my next move."

Elizabeth resumed eating her soup, unsurprised when Mr Darcy moved his leg up against hers again. As she moved to slide hers away, he quickly maneuvered his leg under hers so her leg was trapped between his. She gasped, quickly putting down her spoon. Carefully, she tried to extricate her leg; her efforts fruitless as Mr Darcy was much stronger than her. She couldn't risk being more obvious without her actions becoming evident to others. She huffed lightly in exasperation, causing Mr Darcy to chuckle softly. She looked up and immediately noticed her Uncle staring at her and Mr Darcy with narrowed eyes. She looked down and picked up her spoon to resume eating, her hand trembling. She whispered frantically, "My Uncle."

Darcy glanced up and met the narrowed gaze of Elizabeth's guardian. He was looking back and forth between them with suspicion. Darcy carefully moved his leg so Elizabeth could disentangle her leg from his.

Elizabeth said under her breath, "I thought you said you would weigh the risks, Mr Darcy."

Darcy smiled, "I did, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth huffed. "Was it worth risking my Uncle's ire?"

"Definitely."

Elizabeth blushed and resumed eating her soup. During the second course, the conversation down at the end of the table between Lord Matlock and Lord Sefton became loud enough to disrupt the others conversations.

"I dislike the country. There is never anything to do. Besides, my wife and daughter prefer town, so I happily oblige them." With a wink at Lord Matlock, he added, "I find it promotes familial happiness."

"I have to disagree with you, Lord Sefton. Town is noisy, dirty, and the air is full of ill humors. There is nothing more beneficial than country air." Lord Matlock's tone suggested Lord Sefton's opinion was irrational and absurd.

"Oh, I agree with Lord Matlock Father." Lady Emily said hastily with an uneasy glance in Darcy's direction. "The country is so refreshing."

Lord Sefton stared at his daughter, disbelievingly. "What? But I thought.."

Lady Sefton interrupted and with a sharp look at her husband. "Yes, I agree. I do not deny that I enjoy town. But the country has many benefits as well." She smiled condescendingly at Mr Gardiner seated next to her. "Besides, having a country home is a matter of distinction. Separating ourselves from the masses who do not. Don't you agree, Lady Matlock?"

Lady Eleanor narrowed her eyes at Lady Sefton. "I see nothing that distinguishes us from the masses, Lady Sefton but ignorance. There are many who could have a home in the country but choose not to. I find that is no great distinction, as you call it."

Jane, obviously distressed by the tension asked, "What part of the country are you from, Lady Sefton?"

"Herefordshire."

Elizabeth raised her brow in amusement. Well, that was providential. "Indeed? I have never been there. What is it like?"

"Oh, it is beautiful. There is nothing to equal the Malven Hills." Lady Emily enthused. She fluttered her eyes at Darcy. "Except perhaps the peak district in Derbyshire."

"Yes, the peaks are very beautiful." Darcy said apathetically.

Elizabeth smiled. She knew Mr Darcy was extremely proud of his native Derbyshire. He had talked about it at length with her yesterday. She smiled at Lady Emily, "I understand that Herefordshire is known for its cows, Lady Emily."

Darcy choked on his water, glancing at her in mild astonishment. She had a benign smile on her face but her eyes were dancing with wicked amusement. He slid his leg up to hers, tapping her foot lightly. She jumped slightly, but her smile didn't waver.

Lady Emily looked at Elizabeth in slight confusion. "Yes, I suppose it is. We have quite a large herd of them. They are very docile. I played in our fields without any fear when I was a child."

Lord Sefton raised his glass, "They are great for breeding as well."

"Really, Sefton. You should not say such things in polite company. Especially in front of ladies." Admonished Lady Sefton.

Elizabeth and Mr Darcy glanced at each other in amusement. Elizabeth looked across the table at the Colonel who was rubbing his lips with his finger, trying not to laugh. Jane had a look of mild confusion on her face.

As the next course was laid down, Lady Emily exclaimed, "Oh! I do enjoy a good piece of mutton. Don't you, Mr Darcy?"

Darcy looked at Lady Emily and said, "Indeed? I myself have always preferred a good piece of beef." Darcy cast a sideways look at Elizabeth, bringing his leg up against hers.

Elizabeth took a drink to prevent her from laughing. Did Mr Darcy really just compare her to a piece of beef? She shook her head in amusement as she stepped as hard as she could on his foot, which made no impact with her thin evening slippers. Darcy glanced at her, smiling before bringing his leg to rest against hers.

Silence descended over the table until Lady Worthington turned to Lord Sefton and asked, "So, are you following the latest trend to paint your horses tails, Lord Sefton?"

Richard covered his mouth with his napkin, coughing. He took a quick drink of water, glancing at Miss Bennet to his left. Jane was shaking her head, a look of disapproval on her face.

Lord Sefton snorted. "Oh yes. Which dandy started that, again?"

"Sir Reginald Lynton." Richard answered promptly, winking at Darcy across the table.

Elizabeth stared at the Colonel then back at Jane who gave her a significant look, nodding her head in the Colonel's direction. Elizabeth raised a brow. It appeared Jane was correct, the Colonel did have something to do with Sir Reginald's horses.

Lady Worthington proceeded to inform Lord Sefton that he could paint his horse tails any color, but purple. "Lord Worthington would be extremely displeased."

"I would not dream of it, Lady Worthington." Lord Sefton answered.

The rest of the meal passed quietly until Lady Eleanor excused the ladies from the table. As Darcy stood to assist Elizabeth, he leaned over and quietly said, "Don't leave your sister alone with Lady Emily."

Elizabeth nodded her head in acknowledgment and followed the rest of the ladies from the room.

As Elizabeth entered the Drawing Room, she noticed Lady Emily taking a seat next to Jane on the sofa. Elizabeth quickly walked over, taking the chair next to Jane.

"Tell me, Miss Bennet. Are you often in London?" Lady Emily said with false kindness.

"Every year, Lady Emily." Jane said demurely.

"I have never seen you before. When do you usually visit?"

"In the Autumn."

Lady Emily raised her brows. "Indeed, what an unfashionable time to come to town. Why not come for the _season_ if you come every year? Your family likely cannot afford it." Lady Emily looked over Jane and Elizabeth's gowns, obviously finding them wanting.

Elizabeth, noticing that Jane was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, said, "Autumn is usually the best time for us to visit our Uncle and Aunt, Lady Emily."

"Ah, yes. I imagine his business, " Lady Emily sneered. "Keeps him quiet occupied."

"He is very busy, yes. We are very proud of our Uncle. He has helped so many rebuild their lives and regain what they have lost through imprudent choices." Elizabeth took a deep breath to calm her rising indignation.

Jane added softly, "He even helped Lord Matlock regain his family fortunes."

Lady Emily raised a perfectly sculpted brow. "Yes, I know. A shame that he had to dirty his hands. My family has never had to lower ourselves to consort with commoners."

Elizabeth felt her ire rise. "Mr Darcy is a commoner, Lady Emily." (1)

Lady Emily stared at Elizabeth, her face flushing. "That is different. Mr Darcy is a gentleman and very wealthy."

Elizabeth arched a brow, "I didn't realize that being a gentleman was synonymous with being wealthy."

"It's not." Lady Emily flushed uncomfortably. Gathering her pride, she lifted her chin and said arrogantly, "Besides, it doesn't matter if a man is wealthy or not as I have an extremely large dowry. Yours is practically nonexistent, if I'm not mistaken."

Elizabeth stared at Lady Emily in shock that she would bring up such a thing with complete strangers. It was beyond tactless. She opened her mouth to reply, when Jane reached over and laid a gentle hand over hers.

"I am grateful I don't have a large dowry, Lady Emily. That way I can be certain a man cares for me and not what money I bring to the marriage."

Lady Eleanor heard Jane's statement as she approached. _I guess Marianne hasn't told them.__It's probably for the best, they would be sought after by every fortune hunter in the land._ "Lady Emily, would you perform for us?"

Lady Emily hesitated. "Mr Darcy promised to turn the pages for me, Lady Matlock. I will wait for the gentlemen to arrive." She smiled brightly at Lady Eleanor, who narrowed her eyes in displeasure.

Lady Eleanor turned to Elizabeth and calmly asked, "Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth smiled. "Of course, Lady Eleanor. I would be happy to." Elizabeth made her way to the pianoforte, searching her mind for the perfect song. Something from memory would be best. Elizabeth sat at the pianoforte and began playing _Silent Worship_ from Handel's Tolomeo (2).

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Darcy listened passively as the gentlemen discussed the likelihood of war with the Americas. His mind wandered to the Drawing room down the hallway where Elizabeth was waiting. He would have to force himself to keep his distance and remain impassive in her presence, but at least he would be able to hear her, see her. He was sure his Aunt would ask her to perform. If he turned the pages for Lady Emily, he could perform the same office for Elizabeth without being scrutinized. He smiled. in satisfaction.

"Judging by that smile on your face, you must be thinking of a woman, Darcy." Startled, Darcy looked up to meet Lord Sefton's sharp gaze. Darcy took in the faces of the others, who were all looking at him in amusement. This would not do. The others may know of his relationship with Elizabeth, but Lord Sefton did not, nor did he want him to. He would tell his wife, who would tell her daughter. He took a deep breath. No, he had to be careful.

Darcy straightened. "You are right, Lord Sefton. I was thinking of my sister, Georgiana." Darcy felt a pang of guilt using his sister in such a way, but it couldn't be helped.

Lord Sefton raised his brows, "your sister, eh?" His tone clearly indicated that he did not believe him.

Lord Matlock stood and said, "Speaking of the ladies, why don't we join them?"

Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. He gave his Uncle a grateful look, before turning to see Richard's amused smile.

"Nicely done, cousin," Richard said in a low voice. "I don't think he believed you, though. He probably thinks you were thinking about his daughter."

Darcy groaned softly. "I don't know which is worse. Him believing I was thinking about his horror of a daughter or Elizabeth."

"Definitely, Miss Elizabeth. I think he wants his daughter to marry you more than she does."

Darcy looked at his cousin in astonishment. "Why?"

"Haven't you heard the rumors? Lord Sefton has lost heavily at the gambling tables." Richard spoke so softly, Darcy could barely hear him.

"Surely not."

"It's true. He needs her to marry a man of wealth and soon."

Darcy heaved a sigh. That would make Lord Sefton desperate, which made him dangerous. "Thank you for the warning, cousin."

Richard smiled and quickened his pace. Darcy drew up to Gardiner as they walked to the Drawing room.

Quietly, Darcy said, "Gardiner, you may want to talk with Lord Sefton. I believe he could use your expertise."

Gardiner glanced at Darcy. "Lord Sefton is not a man who would welcome my expertise, Darcy. He is much too proud."

"Speak not in the ears of a fool: for he will despise the wisdom of thy words." (3) Darcy quoted softly.

Gardiner snorted. "Truer words were never spoken."

As they neared the Drawing room, the distinct sounds of a pianoforte could be heard. Gardiner brightened and turning to Darcy said, with a distinctive twinkle in his eye, "We are just in time, Lizzy is about to perform."

Darcy smiled in anticipation and eagerly followed Gardiner into the Drawing room. He stopped just inside the door, taking a quick survey around the room. He noticed Richard near Miss Bennet and Lady Emily on the far side of the room so he placed himself as far from them as possible. He took a seat next to Lady Worthington, in full view of Elizabeth at the pianoforte.

As Elizabeth began to sing, Darcy closed his eyes in appreciation. Her voice was beautiful; clear and unaffected. She sang with such expressive emotion that it pierced him to the heart.

_Did you not hear My Lady__  
__Go down the garden singing  
Blackbird and thrush were silent  
To hear the alleys ringing_

_Oh saw you not My Lady__  
__Out in the garden there  
Shaming the rose and lily  
For she is twice as fair._

_Though I am nothing to her__  
__Though she must rarely look at me  
And though I could never woo her  
I love her till I die_

_Darcy was mesmerized as he listened to the woman who held his future felicity in her small hands.__He still could not believe this incredible woman was his.__His thoughts were interrupted by a soft clearing of a throat.__He turned slightly toward Lady Worthington with a questioning look._

_In a soft voice she said, "You are a little too transparent in your regard, Mr Darcy.__Remember that there are others present who would not wish you joy."_

_Darcy straightened, quickly changing his expression from one of adoration to one of impassivity.__He subtly glanced around the room to see who had witnessed his blatant regard for Elizabeth.__Lady Sefton was eyeing him with narrowed eyes, her gaze darting back and forth between him and Elizabeth at the pianoforte.__Darcy groaned, forcing himself to fix his gaze on Lady Emily, seated across the room._

_Surely you heard My Lady__  
__Go down the garden singing  
Silencing all the songbirds  
And setting the alleys ringing_

_Darcy's gaze moved from Lady Emily to Miss Bennet seated next to her, her posture rigid.__He frowned. __Richard was seated in the chair next to Miss Bennet, his gaze fixed on her, an unmistakable look of longing on his face. __Darcy raised his brows.__Well, I guess my question is answered; __Richard clearly admires Miss Bennet.__Next to him, Lady Worthington snorted in amusement._

_But surely you see My Lady__  
__Out in the garden there  
Rivaling the glittering sunshine  
With a glory of golden hair_

As everyone applauded Elizabeth's performance, Lady Worthington turned to him and winked. "It seems you are not the only one who has difficulty concealing his regard." She cut her eyes at Richard and Miss Bennet, who were now conversing. With a smile, she whispered, "I must applaud your choice, Mr Darcy. Miss Elizabeth is really quite remarkable. My estimation of you has risen."

"Thank you, Lady Worthington." Darcy noticed Lady Emily stand and walk to the pianoforte. He sighed. "Now, I must do my duty."

Lady Worthington's chuckle followed him as he reluctantly joined Lady Emily at the pianoforte. As he approached, she smiled brightly at him. "Why, I didn't even have to remind you, Mr Darcy."

Darcy refrained from rolling his eyes and bowed. "What will you play, Lady Emily?" he asked politely.

"Certainly not a quaint country piece like the one we were just forced to endure. It was positively provincial." She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Something more sophisticated and refined." She showed him the music she intended to play, a well known piece by Mozart, Rondo Alla Turca. (4) "More fitting for a lady of the _ton_, don't you agree?" She fluttered her eyelashes coquettishly.

Darcy clenched his jaw to keep from giving Lady Emily a well deserved set down, knowing he was being keenly observed by both her parents. He breathed through his nose, forcing himself to stay calm. He dutifully stood beside her to turn the pages, standing as far away as possible.

Lady Emily looked up at him with a frown. In a soft voice, she said, "No need to be shy, Mr Darcy." She indicated that she wished for him to sit beside her on the piano bench.

"I believe it is more proper for me to remain here, Lady Emily." Darcy said indifferently, his face impassive.

Lady Emily tittered. "Not among friends, Mr Darcy." She patted the seat beside her, giving him what she thought was a seductive smile.

Seeing no way out, he sat on the very edge of the piano bench as far away from Lady Emily as possible. She immediately moved so that they were side by side, her hip touching his. Darcy tensed, forcing himself to remain emotionless.

Lady Emily began to play and Darcy gradually retreated to the edge of the bench until by the end of the piece he was once again standing beside the pianoforte.

As the guests applauded, she looked up at him and smiled. "See, isn't that much more desirable to a gentleman of your standing than a simple _country_ piece?" She directed a scathing look in Elizabeth and her sister's direction.

Darcy's nose flared and in a cold voice said, "perhaps to some. But as I am a _country_ gentleman I find that I prefer the simplicity of what the country has to offer than anything found in town." Darcy leveled a cold look at Lady Emily before raising his eyes to gaze at Elizabeth, his expression softening.

Lady Emily followed Mr Darcy's gaze as it rested on Elizabeth. She stood, her eyes blazing. "Well, I guess there is no account for good taste. It seems you have been too long in the country, Mr Darcy to fully appreciate what town has to offer." With a swish of her skirts she left and went to her parents; leaning over to whisper something to them, a murderous expression on her face.

Lady Eleanor approached with a look of dismay. "What did you do, Darcy?"

Darcy, his expression hard, said. "She insulted Elizabeth, Aunt. I couldn't just stand by and permit her."

Lady Eleanor sighed. "No, I suppose not. But I wish you would have shown a little more forbearance. This is what I thought you wanted to avoid. Now, all of London will know your intentions towards Elizabeth."

"No, they will not." Lady Worthington said firmly, coming to stand beside Darcy.

"What do you mean?" Lady Eleanor said. Her eyes widened as realization dawned. "Sophie Newton, you would not dare."

Lady Worthington smiled mischievously. "Oh no? Watch me."

Darcy watched in confusion, Lady Eleanor in disapproval as Lady Worthington glided up to Lord and Lady Sefton, taking the seat next to them. As she talked, Lord and Lady Sefton's faces slowly drained of color. Lord Sefton responded angrily to Lady Worthington, his face turning crimson. As Lady Worthington responded, Lord Sefton visibly relaxed as he nodded grudgingly. He turned his angry gaze towards Darcy, saying something to Lady Worthington. She shook her head.

Darcy quietly asked, "What is going on, Aunt?"

Lady Eleanor shook her head in disapproval. "Warning them to keep their counsel or she will reveal their secrets."

Darcy said in surprise, "I thought you said she doesn't use blackmail, Aunt."

"Oh, she doesn't. Not really. She simply uses her knowledge as leverage to get what she wants. And in this case, she wants the courtship between you and Elizabeth to remain a secret."

Darcy said sardonically, "It sounds a lot like blackmail to me, Aunt. Even if there is no money exchanged."

Lady Eleanor snorted. "Well, I don't agree with what she does, but she really is quite harmless. Even though she is threatening Lord Sefton to expose whatever secret or secrets he has, she would never do it."

"Then why do what she says?"

Lady Eleanor shook her head and laughed. "I have no idea. Perhaps, they fear she will if they go against her. I am sure most of the _ton_ is petrified she will go to the papers."

Darcy sighed. Like his Aunt, he didn't condone what Lady Worthington did, but he had to admit he felt gratitude for her. He nodded to his Aunt and went to sit beside Elizabeth. He reached over and taking her hand, brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss.

Elizabeth stared at him in shock, snatching her hand away as she glanced uneasily towards Lady Emily and her parents. "Mr Darcy, have you lost your senses?"

Darcy smiled, "No, our secret is not a secret anymore. Therefore, it is no longer necessary to hide my regard."

Richard laughed loudly as Jane tried to shush him. Elizabeth stared at Mr Darcy. "What do you mean? I thought you didn't want Lady Emily to know."

Darcy nodded his head in Lady Emily's direction. "Lady Worthington is taking care of it."

Elizabeth turned and saw Lady Emily looking at them, fury burning in her eyes. Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Oh dear. But I don't understand, how did she find out?"

Darcy cleared his throat. "I may have indirectly stated my preference. For you."

Elizabeth raised a brow. "Oh? You mean another indirect comment like the one at dinner when you compared me to a piece of beef?"

Richard guffawed loudly, leaning forward. "Is that what that was? Darcy, remind me to give you tips on how to properly woo a woman. Comparing her to a cow is definitely not very ah...romantic."

Darcy, looking slightly sheepish, responded, "Well, I only stated to Lady Emily that I preferred Miss Elizabeth's country piece to hers. So now, Lady Worthington is ensuring that all of London does not know our business by teatime tomorrow."

Suddenly Lady Emily stood before them, her furious eyes darting back and forth between Darcy and Elizabeth. She lifted her head, and with barely concealed contempt, sneered, "well I suppose I should not be surprised. When one is used to cavorting with the cows, it is inevitable that you prefer the stink of the farmyard to the refined society of town."

Elizabeth felt her face flush with anger. How dare she insult Mr Darcy in such a way? In a hard voice, she said, "Indeed? Well I find it ironic, Lady Emily that it is _your_ family that possesses cows, not mine. As you so obviously desired Mr Darcy's good opinion, your way ahead is clear. You simply need to cavort with your herd of cows as you did as a child. Then perhaps you too can aspire to someone of Mr Darcy's consequence."

Lady Emily stared at Elizabeth, her mouth working. Finally, she sputtered, "you, you, you are..."

"I think the words you are looking for are impertinent, obstinate, and headstrong. Those are characteristics you too may want to develop if you wish to aspire to greater things. Good evening, Lady Emily." Elizabeth said boldly, her heart pounding.

Without a word, Lady Emily turned on her heel and quickly retreated back to her parents.

Elizabeth took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. _What have I done?_ Her shoulders slumped and she turned dejectedly to Mr Darcy. _What must he think of me now?_As she met Mr Darcy's eyes, she stared. His expression was not at all what she expected. He looked...pleased? Proud? No, she must be mistaken. "Forgive me, that was..."

"Magnificent." Darcy said simply as he stared at the blazing eyes of his Elizabeth, a becoming flush on her cheeks. She was magnificent.

"Brilliant!" Colonel Fitzwilliam pronounced. "Remind me not to make you angry, Miss Elizabeth." Turning to Jane, he asked, "Is she always like this when she is angry?"

Jane looked at her sister with a sad smile. "Not as often as I would like."

Elizabeth and Jane shared a look of understanding. Jane knew more than anyone how often she had to control her temper, the penalty if she didn't.

Darcy saw the look of understanding pass between Elizabeth and her sister, knowing what Miss Bennet was referring to. His fists clenched as a well of anger grew in his chest until he almost couldn't breathe. An overwhelming need to protect Elizabeth came over him. _I have to take her away from that woman she calls a mother._

Richard looked at Jane in confusion, observing an unmistakable look of sadness and regret pass over her lovely features. What could she mean? He frowned. He turned to his cousin and was astounded at his angry countenance, his eyes filled with resolve. Richard shook his head in confusion. _What is going on?_

Lady Eleanor approached and asked if anyone wished to play cards. They all declined, preferring to sit and converse. Conversation between them was stilted at first. But gradually they forgot the unpleasantness that was Lady Emily and were able to enjoy themselves, as young lovers are wont to do; until by the end of the evening it was all but forgotten. It came as no surprise when Lord Sefton, Lady Sefton and Lady Emily departed early. Their company was not missed.

A/N: Ah, that was so much fun to write! So what do you think of Lady W now? Cheeky old thing, ain't see? So, the Colonel is a bit smitten with our Jane :) I am happy that so many of you like the pairing. You'll just to wait and see what happens between the two ;) and when we throw Bingley and Miss Bingley into the mix -Hah!

(1) Although Darcy is the grandson of an Earl, he is only a member of the landed gentry. Anyone who didn't hold a peerage in England was considered a commoner.

(2) From 1996 adaption of Emma; song sung by Gwyneth Paltrow

(3) Proverbs 23:9 KJV

(4) The song played by Louisa Hurst in 1995 adaptation during the Netherfield Ball.

Please review to feed my muse! Thank you all for your support!


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 18

Upon entering Darcy House after dinner at Matlock House, Richard asked to speak with his cousin. He followed Darcy into his study with a single purpose; he needed answers. He was concerned with the look of sadness on Miss Bennet's face and he knew, judging by the look of anger he witnessed on Darcy's that he knew something. Sitting in his favorite chair before the fireplace, he stretched out his legs, seemingly at ease but inside he was tense and anxious.

Darcy took the chair across from him, rubbing his hand tiredly over his face. "Just spit it out, Richard. I am tired. Tonight drained me."

Richard snorted. "You feel drained! You didn't have to force Lady Emily's attention away from you all night."

Darcy smiled wearily, "For which I thank you profusely, cousin."

"Good, because I want answers."

Darcy sat up, looking at his cousin in surprise. "Answers? About what?"

Richard ran his hand through his hair. "Why were Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth so distraught after the set down Miss Elizabeth gave Lady Emily? And don't think I didn't notice your murderous expression." He leveled a serious look at his cousin. "I want to know what is going on."

Darcy looked thoughtfully at his cousin. He suspected this had more to do with Miss Bennet than him and Elizabeth. He sighed. He could trust his cousin. Staring gravely at Richard, he took a deep breath before telling his cousin what he had learned from Gardiner the day he asked to court Elizabeth.

Richard listened attentively, his eyes narrowing in barely concealed anger and disbelief. When his cousin was finished, Richard sat quietly trying to contemplate what type of woman; no, what type of _mother_ would act so despicably towards her own daughter? He sighed heavily, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Looking at his cousin, he noted the anger blazing in his eyes. "I didn't think it possible that there was a woman more despicable than our Aunt Catherine. But, Mrs Bennet has proven me wrong." Richard shook his head, smiling slightly. "It makes your Miss Elizabeth all the more remarkable. How a young woman can endure a mother like that and still be so good and kind. It defies disbelief."

Darcy smiled. Yes, his Elizabeth was a remarkable woman.

Hesitantly, Richard asked, "Are you sure Gardiner said nothing about Mrs Bennet's behavior toward any of her other children?"

Darcy leveled a serious gaze at his cousin. "You mean, Miss Bennet?"

Richard leaned back, exhaling loudly. He should have known how Darcy would take his probing questions. He had deliberately evaded Darcy's question about whether there was a young lady who had captured his interest. He couldn't even admit it to himself, let alone his cousin that he was developing a deep regard for Miss Elizabeth's lovely sister. "Yes. I admit that I was concerned to see such a look of sadness on her face."

Darcy smiled wryly. "I am not the only one who noticed, either." At Richard's enquiring look, he said, "Lady Worthington saw your unguarded look directed at Miss Bennet during Elizabeth's performance this evening."

Richard stood, cursing and began to pace. "That woman! "

Darcy laughed. "I don't see what the trouble is, Richard. She has proven...valuable. Indeed, I am grateful to her for her ah...assistance this evening."

"Darcy, you don't understand! I can't let my feelings for Miss Bennet be known. To anyone!" Richard grew more agitated as he paced.

Darcy stared at his cousin as comprehension dawned. Tentatively, he asked, "Does this have to do with your reluctance to marry while still in the army?"

Richard stopped pacing, his shoulders slumped. "Yes. I am almost certain I will be sent to the Iberian Peninsula. I will be gone for months, maybe years. I can't ask a woman to wait for me knowing that I may never come home."

"Richard, stop talking in such a fatalistic way! You _may _be sent there, and if you do, you _will_ come home. Do you understand?" Darcy glared at his cousin.

Richard smiled. "Giving me orders, Darcy? I feel like I should salute you."

"Richard, it is no laughing matter! I understand, even if I don't agree with your decision to not marry, but why don't you let Miss Bennet decide? If you care for her, take a leap of faith. If she returns your regard, she will wait."

"That's just it, Darcy. I don't want her to wait. She is young and beautiful. She will meet some young, dashing gentleman and be swept off her feet. I will not have her wither away, waiting for me." With a defeated sigh, he said, "She deserves better than that. Better than me."

Darcy stared at his cousin, astonished. "You really do care for Miss Bennet?"

Slowly, Richard nodded his head, "I believe I do."

With conviction, Darcy said, "Then fight for her, Richard! Don't let happiness pass you by because you are afraid."

Richard's head shot up. "I am not afraid, Darcy. I am trying to do the right thing. For her."

Quietly, Darcy asked, "What about you? What is the right thing for you? Are you really willing to watch her marry someone else? Because with my marriage to Elizabeth..." Darcy trailed off, seeing the look of abject despondency on Richard's face. "Richard," Darcy waited until his cousin met his eyes. "You, more than anyone I know deserve to be happy. If Miss Bennet will make you happy, then don't let her slip through your fingers. You will regret it for the rest of your life if you do."

Richard stared at Darcy, wavering in his resolve. Could he? Would she wait for him? How could he be so selfish to ask such a thing? What if she didn't return his regard? Richard shook his head. No! He would not. Richard looked at Darcy, his eyes resolute, his decision firm. "No, I will not be so selfish, Darcy. I will let her go. There is no other way."

Darcy looked at his cousin with sadness. He couldn't let Richard give in so readily, not when such happiness was within his grasp. "You could still sell out. Retire, become a country gentleman."

Richard looked at Darcy in exasperation. "Never. I would wither away from inactivity. No woman would want to be near me; I am an absolute beast when I am bored." He ran his hands through his hair. "No, I am determined, Darcy. Miss Bennet will live a happy and blessed life." In a voice so quiet, Darcy almost didn't hear, he added, "with someone else."

"And what of her?"

Richard looked at Darcy in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Exasperated, Darcy exclaimed, "What of Miss Bennet's feelings? You have considered your own feelings and your wants. But what of hers? Doesn't she have a say?"

"If she does hold any regard for me, my absence will make her forget." Richard sighed dejectedly. "She will move on."

Darcy stared at his cousin. "Do you really think so little of a woman's feelings? Good heavens, man! Listen to what you are saying! Would you so easily forget a woman who had captured your heart?"

"Of course not!"

"Then why do you think she would forget you? She would suffer as much if not more. She would suffer from unrequited love, thinking that you never cared for her. You talk about being selfish, Richard! Well, you are being selfish. To protect your own heart at the expense of hers."

Richard was incensed. "How dare you? You do not have the right to lecture me, Darcy."

Darcy stood, facing his cousin, his expression grim. "I have no right? You forget, Richard. When I marry Elizabeth, Miss Bennet will be my sister. Her concerns will become mine, not only because of familial duty but because my soon-to-be wife cherishes her sister above all others. How can I, in good conscience rejoice in my newfound happiness while my new sisters pines for you! I cannot let this go, Richard. Unless you give me a very good reason besides you wishing to protect her from possible heartbreak." Darcy and his cousin stared at each other, neither one breaking their gaze. Each resolute in their decision.

"You want a reason, Darcy?" Richard exploded. "Well, I can't afford to marry a penniless, country squire's daughter, no matter how beautiful and good she is!"

Darcy clenched his fists to prevent striking his oldest friend, his breath coming fast. He took a deep breath, relaxing immediately, knowing Richard was lying. He didn't have to marry for money due to his wise investments with Gardiner. Besides, he was not so attached to his station in life that he would forgo happiness for something so mercenary as a lack of money. Darcy rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Richard. You could care less about that. Besides, if your parents knew you were settling down and that Miss Bennet was your choice?" He snorted. "Well, needless to say, they would reward you handsomely. With money. Lots of it."

Richard sat, his head down, shoulders slumped. He shook his head. "That was unkind of me. I did not mean it." He glanced up, smiling wryly. "But it would make everything so much easier if that was the main impediment."

"Then what is it, Richard? I understand you think you are doing the right thing by walking away. But somehow, I think it goes deeper than that." Darcy looked steadfastly at his cousin.

Richard looked at Darcy before turning away, embarrassed. Swallowing his pride, he hesitantly said, "You were right, Darcy."

Darcy raised his brows. "Right about what, Richard?"

Richard met his cousin's penetrating gaze. He sighed. "I am afraid."

Darcy stared at his cousin. He had always looked up to Richard, admired him. He was closer to him than a true brother could ever be. He was without doubt the most courageous and most honorable man Darcy knew. To see his cousin brought to his knees by a woman only raised him in his estimation. With a small smile, he clapped a hand on Richard's shoulder. "Then you are doing something right, Richard."

Richard looked at him in astonishment. "I didn't tell you what I was afraid of."

Darcy smiled. "You didn't have to. I know, because I feel the same thing."

Richard raised his brows, "What?"

Quietly, Darcy said, "You are afraid that you are not good enough for the woman you love." With a sigh, he added, "And you are not. And that, Richard, is a good thing. Because you will spend the rest of your life proving to her that she didn't make a mistake in choosing you."

Richard blinked at Darcy, lost in thought. He mulled over his cousin's words, knowing they were true. He sighed deeply, "Well, this is all debatable as I do not know if Miss Bennet has any regard for me."

Darcy laughed, relieved. "Well, then. Find out."

Richard smiled. He stood and approached his cousin, giving him a brotherly embrace. "Thank you, Darcy."

Darcy huffed in mild exasperation. "Don't thank me, Richard. Do something. You are a man of action. So _act_."

Richard laughed, his heart light as he left his cousin's study. _Maybe I will._

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Elizabeth sat in her Aunt's Drawing room, waiting impatiently for Mr Darcy, Miss Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam to arrive to collect her and Jane for a surprise outing. It had been a week since the dinner at Matlock House and Mr Darcy had called every day but once. When the weather was fine, they preferred to spend time out of doors; walking the many paths in the park nearest the Gardiners townhouse. When the weather was inclement, Mr Darcy would come to spend the afternoon in her Aunts Drawing room.

Elizabeth looked forward to each encounter with Mr Darcy with eagerness. Each visit only increased her good opinion of him; her respect and admiration for Mr Darcy continuing to grow. The majority of their time together was spent conversing on a wide range of topics; both eager to learn as much as possible of the other. Oftentimes their topics of conversation led to some very spirited debates. Although Mr Darcy was more well read and had more experience in the ways of the world; more than anyone she had ever met, he never made her feel that she was lacking in any way. He always listened to her opinions and even when he disagreed, which was often; he was always respectful. Indeed, Elizabeth strongly suspected that he enjoyed it when she disagreed with him, which she found strangely endearing.

Sometimes, they sat or walked in companionable silence; neither feeling the need to speak at all. It was in those moments of silence, that Elizabeth became better acquainted with her hearts desires. Those quiet moments confirmed in her heart and mind that Mr Darcy was truly perfect for her in every way. She felt completely comfortable in his presence; more so than she ever thought possible in the short amount of time she had known him. She never felt she had to prove anything or be anything other than who she was. She found it liberating.

One subject however, was never mentioned. By unspoken agreement, neither of them discussed the one subject that was most painful for each of them: their mothers. Elizabeth didn't introduce the subject of his mother because it would lead to him asking questions about hers. And she was afraid. Afraid of what he would think if he knew what her mother thought about her second eldest daughter; that she was unworthy of any man's esteem. She knew it was cowardly of her. Indeed, if their courtship progressed to an engagement then he would undoubtedly meet her mother and hear the vitriol she felt towards her second eldest. But she hoped by then, he would be committed to her and would not listen to what her mother had to say. And Elizabeth did not doubt that when her mother learned of her relationship with Mr Darcy, she would not remain silent.

Elizabeth wanted to ask Mr Darcy about his mother, if only to help him see that his sister was suffering from not having anyone to share her feelings. She knew Miss Darcy desperately wished to remember her mother; the few memories she had were fading due to her young age when her mother died. She hoped that Mr Darcy would open up to her about his mother, but she couldn't expect it as she was not willing to talk about hers.

Elizabeth glanced at the mantle clock, and sighed softly. It was still too early. Needing a distraction, she picked up Macbeth, wrinkling her nose in distaste. They had discussed at length their different preferences for Shakespeare's plays; she had promised to read his favorite tragedy if he promised to read her favorite comedy. After attempting to read for several minutes, she shut the book with a loud _thump! _ placing it on the table beside her.

Unable to sit still she stood and began pacing, causing her sister to exclaim in exasperation, "Lizzy, enough! They will come soon enough."

Elizabeth smiled sheepishly at her sister. "Forgive me, Jane." She sat with a slight huff. "I don't like surprises." A note from Darcy House had arrived before breakfast with an invitation for an excursion. Although, the note had not specified what that outing would be, just that a carriage would arrive to collect her and Jane at one o'clock.

With a playful smile, Jane asked, "even if the surprise comes from Mr Darcy?"

Ignoring her sister, Elizabeth asked, "Where could he be taking us?"

Jane stood, gazing out at the rain drenched street and said, "Somewhere indoors, hopefully."

Elizabeth gazed at her sister's profile as she looked out the window, biting her lip to keep from smiling. The past week had proven to be quite...interesting. Nearly every time Mr Darcy had come to call on her, the Colonel had accompanied him. He had shown very marked attentions to Jane. What Elizabeth could not discover is what Jane thought of Colonel Fitzwilliam's attentions. Whenever Elizabeth pressed for information on the Colonel, Jane had been uncharacteristically silent on the subject. So Elizabeth watched and hoped. She had even asked Mr Darcy about his cousin and his intentions towards her sister. But that enigmatic gentleman had simply smiled and said nothing.

Precisely at one o'clock, the door to the Drawing room opened and Mr Darcy was announced. He entered wearing a large smile, his eyes bright with unconcealed excitement. Bowing, he said, "Good morning, ladies. I hope I haven't kept you waiting."

Jane glanced at her sister in amusement as Elizabeth responded. "Not at all, Mr Darcy. We were just speculating on where exactly you were taking us today."

Darcy smiled wider. "That, my lovely Miss Elizabeth is a surprise."

Elizabeth huffed slightly. "You are here now, why not tell us?" She gave him a hopeful look, smiling triumphantly when she saw him waver.

Darcy shook his head. With resolve, he said firmly, "No. You will have to wait and see."

Mrs Gardiner entered, hearing Darcy's last statement. She laughed. "You will quickly learn, Mr Darcy that Lizzy is not fond of surprises."

Darcy gazed at Elizabeth with a small smile. "Yes, I am learning Mrs Gardiner. But she will just have to get used to it, because I am rather fond of surprises."

Jane and Mrs Gardiner laughed. Elizabeth raised a brow and with a teasing smile said, "Is that so, Mr Darcy? If you are so fond of surprises, then why are you so determined to discover the book your sister bought for your birthday?" The past week, Mr Darcy had been relentless, asking at random intervals to see if she would reveal the name of the book. She had simply laughed at his feeble attempts.

Darcy leaned in and in a low voice, whispered, "Because you chose it, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth stared at Mr Darcy, a blush suffusing her face. He always managed to say what she least expected to hear. He was so forthright, so honest that it was quite unsettling to the state of her heart. She took a deep breath to calm her suddenly racing heart at his bold statement. She glanced at her Aunt and Jane who had discreetly moved away to allow them some privacy. With a mischievous smile she said, "Then what would you say I wonder if you knew what I bought you for your birthday?" Elizabeth hadn't bought it, yet. She was not even sure if it was entirely appropriate to buy a gift for a man who was only courting her.

Darcy's eyes lit up with pleasure, "You did? What is it?"

Elizabeth laughed and shook her head as she responded, "That, Mr Darcy, is a _surprise_."

Darcy smiled. "I suppose I deserved that." He offered his arm to Elizabeth. "Well, shall we go? I am sure the others are wondering what is taking so long."

Elizabeth smiled, taking Mr Darcy's arm. She found it endearing that he always offered his arm to escort her anywhere, even within the house. There were few proper ways a gentleman could show his regard for a lady and Mr Darcy made use of them. Often.

Inside the carriage, Miss Darcy was vibrating with excitement. "Oh, I can't wait until you see where we are going! It has been years since I have been."

As Elizabeth settled herself in the carriage next to Jane, across from Mr Darcy, she innocently asked, "Oh, where are we going?"

Darcy leveled a mock glare in her direction, bringing his boot to rest next to hers. "Patience, Miss Elizabeth."

"Lizzy is not known for her patience, Mr Darcy." Jane said with a laugh.

The others laughed as Elizabeth made a face at her sister. Silence fell as the carriage moved through the wet streets of London. Elizabeth looked out the rain drenched window to determine their direction. They were headed North. What was in that direction? As she sat mulling over the possibilities, she felt Mr Darcy tap her shoe with his boot. She looked up to meet his amused gaze. She raised her brow in a question.

"Stop trying to guess, Miss Elizabeth."

"I am just pondering the possibilities, Mr Darcy." Elizabeth said archly.

Colonel Fitzwilliam said, "You are rather silent, Miss Bennet. Are you not curious where we are headed?"

Jane looked at the Colonel, seated across from her. "Of course I am, Colonel Fitzwilliam." She turned to her sister with a smile and added, "But whereas Lizzy can be impatient, I am not." She glanced up, meeting the Colonel's penetrating stare. "I can wait," she added softly.

Richard stared at Miss Bennet, his heart filled with a tentative hope. He smiled and winked. "That is good to hear, Miss Bennet. I hope your wait will not prove to be a disappointment."

Jane stared at the Colonel as she said carefully, "Then the anticipation will have to sustain me until the wait is over, Colonel."

Elizabeth looked back and forth between the Colonel and her sister, smiling in satisfaction. She glanced at Mr Darcy who had a pleased look on his face. Elizabeth settled back against the squabs, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

Before long, the carriage pulled up to a large stone building. Elizabeth looked out the window and gasped, "Oh! The Royal Menagerie!" (1) She turned to smile brightly at Mr Darcy. "I haven't been here since I was a small child."

Darcy watched in delight at the excitement dancing in Elizabeth's fine eyes. "I am glad that it is a good surprise, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, it is." She eagerly stepped out of the carriage with the assistance of Mr Darcy.

The party made their way to the top floor where the Royal Menagerie was housed. As they entered the enormous room, Elizabeth wrinkled her nose at the distinctive, pungent smell. Cages lined the room in front of her, housing the various animals.

Darcy gently took Elizabeth's hand and placed it around his, leading her to one end of the room; Miss Darcy, the Colonel and Jane following behind. They approached the cage housing Chunee, the elephant (2) as the elephant's keeper bowed to their party.

"Good day, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the Royal Menagerie. Would you like to see Chunee perform a few tricks?" At their agreement, he turned to Mr Darcy, "Would you step forward please, sir?"

Darcy complied warily. The keeper gestured with his hand and the elephant stuck his truck through the bars and plucked Darcy's hat off his head. He reared back in surprise, causing everyone to laugh. The keeper smiled as he made another gesture. Chunee responded by lowering one knee, carefully placing the hat back on Darcy's head.

As the ladies clapped in delight, Richard came forward to stand beside his cousin. Rubbing his chin in amusement, he said wryly, "I wonder what Fletcher would do if you requested he place the hat on your head instead of just handing it to you?"

Darcy snorted and responded in like manner, "Yes, the elephant is much more accommodating than my butler."

Jane approached and asked the keeper if the elephant knew any other tricks.

The keeper winked. "Of course, Miss." The elephant slowly turned, picking something up in its trunk before turning back around, revealing a red rose. The elephant stuck its trunk through the bars, placing the red rose in Jane's outstretched hand.

Darcy leaned in and whispered, "Upstaged by an elephant, Richard. You're losing your touch."

Richard glared at Darcy. "I don't believe you have given Miss Elizabeth any flowers, dear cousin." At Darcy's horrified expression, Richard laughed, slapping him on the back. "Save it for when you have your first fight."

The party moved down the room in a leisurely fashion, commenting on the various animals and birds until coming to a stop in front of the cage housing the hyena, following its keeper around.

Darcy leaned in and in a low voice, said, "Remind you of anyone, Richard?"

Richard raised his brows, watching the apparent fondness of the hyena for its human keeper. He grinned, "Yes, it definitely reminds me of you, trailing after Miss Elizabeth."

Darcy snorted. "I meant you, following after Miss Bennet."

"Surely not! I would never behave so injudiciously. I would behave in a much more...dignified fashion." At that moment, the hyena made a noise that could only be described as an hysterical laugh.

Elizabeth came up beside Mr Darcy and said, "You were right, Mr Darcy."

"About what, Miss Elizabeth?"

With a teasing smile, she said, "The hyena does sound like Colonel Fitzwilliam when he laughs."

Darcy threw back his head and laughed loudly, causing Elizabeth to blush in pleasure. Georgiana tried unsuccessfully to smother her giggles. Jane just shook her head, a small smile on her face.

Richard turned to Elizabeth with a frown, "I am hurt, Miss Elizabeth. Besides, I believe my cousin likened myself _and_ his sister to a laughing hyena."

"Oh, but Miss Darcy is much too refined to be compared to a hyena." Elizabeth said, smiling sweetly at her young friend.

"No, she is a monkey." Richard said under his breath.

"I heard that, Richard!" Georgiana gasped in mock outrage.

Richard winked at his young cousin. "Well, it is true. Look." He pointed to several monkeys, swinging on ropes. "You act the same way, Georgiana whenever you are excited."

Everyone laughed as Georgiana shrugged, a blush creeping over her face. "Well, then what type of animal does Fitzwilliam resemble?"

With a roguish smile , Richard moved down the room, stopping in front of a cage. As the others stood beside him, Darcy snorted. "Really, Richard? A sloth?"

Richard raised his brows, "Of course. Compared to me you are extremely inactive, dull and well, slow."

Darcy rolled his eyes. "Richard my lifestyle is anything but inactive, dull and slow."

Richard waved his hand dismissively. "Compared to the life of a soldier, Darcy, everyone's lifestyle is dull and slow. Especially a country gentleman like yourself."

Elizabeth, coming to Mr Darcy's defense said, "I have to disagree, Colonel. I may not know the particulars of Mr Darcy's lifestyle, but I am sure his life is very busy trying to manage a large estate. I wager when he is in the country he is from home for a large portion of the day. Am I right, Mr Darcy?"

Darcy looked at Elizabeth with pride. He bowed his head in acknowledgment. "Yes, you would be correct, Miss Elizabeth. Although I have a very competent steward, I take a very _active_ role in the management of my estate." Darcy leveled a mock glare at his grinning cousin. "And my life, especially at present, is anything but dull." Darcy smiled softly at Elizabeth, his eyes filled with warm intensity.

Richard turned to Elizabeth with a twinkle in his eye. "Then what animal would you suggest resembles my active cousin?"

With a mischievous smile, Elizabeth walked to stand between two cages; one holding an Ostrich around 11 feet tall and the other, a sleek, black panther.

Darcy approached to stand close by Elizabeth's side. As he gazed at the two animals, he turned to her with raised brows. "So, which is it, Miss Elizabeth?"

With an arched brow, Elizabeth replied teasingly, "Why, I thought it would be quite obvious, Mr Darcy."

With a wry smile, Darcy replied, "Let me guess. The Ostrich, because I am exceptionally tall?"

Elizabeth bit her lip, suddenly nervous. Gathering her courage, she leaned in slightly and in a soft voice, she said, "Good guess, Mr Darcy. Although you are extremely tall, I was going to say the panther, because it is remarkably...handsome."

A slow smile stole over Darcy's face at Elizabeth's pronouncement. With raised brows, he responded, "So you think I am remarkably handsome, Miss Elizabeth?"

Blushing slightly at her audacity, Elizabeth said, noncommittally, "Perhaps."

Darcy smiled, kissing Elizabeth's hand quickly before placing it securely around his arm, leading her away. As he passed the others, Richard muttered, "Lucky devil."

As they walked slowly down the room, Elizabeth felt a sudden prickle of unease, sensing someone's gaze on her and Mr Darcy. Glancing around inconspicuously, she noticed a man a short distance away staring intently at her; his face pale, eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Disconcerted, Elizabeth looked away, gasping slightly.

"Miss Elizabeth?" Darcy asked, concerned. "Is something wrong?"

Elizabeth shook her head, as she said quietly, "I am not sure. There is a man staring rather intently at us." _At me._ Elizabeth nodded her head in the man's direction.

Darcy stopped, turning abruptly in the direction Elizabeth indicated, his eyes searching for the man who had caused Elizabeth discomfort. He located the man, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. He disengaged Elizabeth's arm before walking purposefully toward the unknown man, his expression forbidding. As he approached, the man's eyes widened in alarm and he turned and practically fled. Darcy scowled in frustration. He knew he had never seen the man before. Judging by his apparel he was well to do, but lacked that air of confidence that came from being a gentleman. His brow furrowed in thought, he did not notice Elizabeth's approach to stand silently beside him.

Elizabeth touched Mr Darcy's arm as she said quietly, "Do you know him?"

Darcy looked down at Elizabeth, noting the lingering unease in her eyes. He sighed, removing his hat to run a hand through his hair. "No, I did not recognize him."

Elizabeth bit her lip, thinking. "Maybe he is an acquaintance of my Uncle Gardiner?"

Darcy frowned. "Perhaps. But why would he behave in such a way? If he is an acquaintance of Gardiner he would not have run off when I approached him." Darcy felt a growing unease that he could not shake. He wondered if the man had been staring intently at him or Elizabeth. He glanced down at her in concern. What could he want with Elizabeth? He felt a powerful wave of protectiveness come over him as he gazed at her lovely profile. She was biting her lip, her brow lowered in thought.

Sensing Mr Darcy's gaze, she glanced up at him, smiling softly. "I am sure it is nothing."

Darcy sighed. He hoped Elizabeth was right and the man wanted nothing with Elizabeth or him.

Richard came up beside them, noting their concerned expressions. "Is everything well, Darcy?"

Darcy nodded his head, distractedly. "Yes, everything is fine." He straightened, replacing his hat. "Well, have we seen enough?"

As they left the Royal Menagerie, Darcy scanned the crowds in front of the Exeter 'Change, looking for any sign of the man. Darcy was so intent in his search, he did not notice a nondescript black carriage behind his. As the Darcy carriage pulled away to head back to the Gardiner Townhome, the unknown black carriage followed closely behind.

**A/N:** Well, the plot thickens. *rubs hands together deviously* I know the Royal Menagerie is just a bunch of fluff, but I got the idea in my head and it Would. Not. Leave. So I had to write it :) A little bit of drama coming up in the next chapter between ODC. Their stubbornness and pride are going to rear their ugly heads - just a heads up.

I know I have said this before, but you are all amazing! **Thank you** so much for your support, and especially your uplifting reviews.

(1) The Royal Menagerie was housed at the Exeter Exchange, or Exeter 'Change from about 1773 until 1829 when it was demolished.

(2) Chunee, the elephant was the star attraction of the Royal Menagerie, arriving in England in 1809. On Feb 26, 1826 he killed one of his keepers and was subsequently put down for safety reasons.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: So, I decided to post this a day early for reaching over 1,000 reviews! Holy Nuts, guys! I can't tell you how flabbergasted and extremely happy that makes me.

Enjoy!

Chapter 19

Darcy and Elizabeth were silent as the carriage made its way to the Gardiner Townhouse. Richard, knowing that something had happened to cause his cousin's countenance to darken in that forbidding way of his engaged Miss Bennet and Georgiana in conversation to distract them from the growing silence.

Darcy gazed out the window, lost in thought. He was worried. He couldn't shake the feeling that the man knew his Elizabeth somehow. But how? And more importantly, what did he want with her? He turned his head to gaze at Elizabeth. Her eyes were directed downward, brow furrowed in thought, her expression troubled. He knew she must be thinking about the unknown man. He would talk to Gardiner as soon as possible to determine if the man was an acquaintance of his. He hoped that it was so.

Elizabeth sat silently, trying to convince herself that the man meant nothing by staring at her in such a disconcerting way. He looked at her like he recognized her. But how? Could he know her family somehow? Her father or her mother? Elizabeth mulled over this possibility, but could come to no definite conclusion. She sighed in frustration. She looked up, meeting Mr Darcy's reassuring gaze and smiled.

Seeing Elizabeth so worried made Darcy frustrated and angry. When she met his gaze, he mouthed, "All will be well." He brought his boot to rest against her foot, trying to offer what comfort he could in a carriage full of people. How he longed to comfort her in the way that he wished. _Soon._

"I hope you will all stay for tea." Jane's quiet invitation broke through Darcy and Elizabeth's thoughts.

Darcy smiled warmly at Elizabeth's sister. "Thank you, Miss Bennet. We would be happy to accept." Perfect. He could seek out Gardiner and hopefully put this mystery to rest.

Mrs Gardiner greeted them warmly as they entered the Drawing room. She quickly rang for tea, inviting her guests to make themselves comfortable. Mrs Gardiner asked about their outing. With enthusiasm, Miss Darcy launched into a detailed account of their experience at The Royal Menagerie.

As Mrs Gardiner handed Darcy his cup of tea, he used the opportunity to ask if her husband was at home.

"I expect him shortly, Mr Darcy." With an imperceptible glance at Elizabeth, she asked, "Do you wish to speak with him?"

"Yes, if it would not be too much trouble, Mrs Gardiner."

Mrs Gardiner smiled. "Of course not, Mr Darcy." With a knowing look at Elizabeth, she rose and left the room.

Elizabeth blushed, knowing that her Aunt thought she and Mr Darcy had come to an understanding and was seeking her Uncle's permission. She turned to Mr Darcy and in a voice the others would not overhear, asked, "You are going to ask my Uncle if he is acquainted with the man from earlier?"

Darcy nodded, responding softly, "Yes, I want to rule out that possibility."

Elizabeth shook her head, perplexed. "I don't know what else it could be."

Darcy reached over, grasping her hand. "All will be well, Elizabeth. I will see to it."

"I know, Mr Darcy." Elizabeth smiled warmly, gratitude infusing her features.

Darcy longed to touch the softness of her face, but settled for squeezing her hand. He placed his teacup down and stood, holding out his hand to Elizabeth. Quietly, he asked, "Play for me?"

Elizabeth smiled, taking his hand. "Of course." Elizabeth allowed Mr Darcy to lead her to the pianoforte. As she sat at the bench, she looked up and asked, "What would you like to hear?"

Darcy smiled, reaching for the stack of music. He quickly searched through the sheets of music, looking for a particular piece. Finding it, he placed it in front of Elizabeth, taking a seat next to her.

Elizabeth arched her brow, smiling. "I am still in the process of learning this particular piece, Mr Darcy. Are you sure you don't mind hearing my mistakes?"

"No mistakes by you are worth mentioning, Miss Elizabeth for they are as charming as you are."

Elizabeth laughed. "Such flattery, Mr Darcy! But I am afraid you are not fully cognizant of my many faults."

Darcy gently placed Elizabeth's hands on the keys. "Your faults, if you indeed have them make no difference to me. They simply add flavor to your character, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth shook her head and sighed. "Well, I suppose you witnessed my impertinent and obstinate behavior the other night at dinner." Elizabeth blushed as she remembered her appalling behavior towards Lady Emily, even if she did deserve it.

With a warm look, Darcy leaned in and said in a low voice, "I remember claiming you were magnificent after that set down you gave Lady Emily."

Elizabeth laughed and playfully responded, "Ah, but Mr Darcy. My impertinent and obstinate behavior was not directed towards you. Heaven help you, if you experience it firsthand."

Darcy leaned in, whispering in her ear, "I look forward to it, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth blushed and with trembling hands, began playing Beethoven's Piano Sonata No 14 in C Sharp Minor.

Mrs Gardiner entered and approached the pianoforte. She listened silently until Elizabeth had finished the first movement before saying, "My husband will see you now, Mr Darcy."

Darcy stood, looking down at Elizabeth. "Thank you, Miss Elizabeth. That was beautiful."

Elizabeth watched Mr Darcy leave the room, hopeful her Uncle would put their minds at rest.

Mrs Gardiner settled in next to Elizabeth on the bench, turning to her niece with a glowing smile. "Well?"

Elizabeth looked at her Aunt in confusion, "Well, what?"

Mrs Gardiner asked in barely concealed excitement, "Am I to wish you joy?"

Elizabeth stared at her Aunt in shock, "Of course not, Aunt! He has barely courted me for a week!"

Mrs Gardiner's countenance fell in disappointment. "Oh, I thought for sure that was the reason he wished to speak with your Uncle." She shrugged her shoulders, "Oh well, I am sure that conversation is coming." With a wink at her niece, she added, "Soon."

Elizabeth idly pressed the keys. Shaking her head she said, softly, "He might not, you know." When her Aunt didn't respond, Elizabeth looked up to meet her Aunt's disappointed gaze.

Mrs Gardiner rarely found Elizabeth at fault. But hearing her niece disregard the feelings Mr Darcy so obviously displayed for all to see made her disappointed in her niece. Firmly, she said, "Elizabeth Bennet, I want you to listen to me. That gentleman is in love with you. I know that your fear is preventing you from admitting your own feelings for Mr Darcy, but I will not have you think so little of his obvious regard." She lifted Elizabeth's chin with her finger, and in a gentler tone, said, "His intentions are clear to everyone it seems, but you. Take care my dear, or your fear will drive him away."

Elizabeth was silent as she pondered her Aunt's words. Slowly she nodded her head in agreement, "You are right, Aunt. It was ungenerous of me to say such a thing." She sighed and looked up to meet her Aunts understanding gaze. "It just seems so unreal, after what my mother has led me to believe, that he could, that he could possibly..."

"Love you?" Mrs Gardiner said gently, brushing an errant curl from her niece's face. "Oh my dear, if his love doesn't disprove your mother's lies, I don't know what will."

Elizabeth looked at her Aunt, her eyes full of anguish. "But he doesn't know about mama. What will he say when he learns that I am not worthy to be his..."

"Stop it, Lizzy!" Mrs Gardiner exclaimed. Her outburst caused the others in the room to look up in surprise and concern. She smiled and waved her hand. "Forgive me, Miss Darcy, Colonel." Sharing a sympathetic look with Jane, she turned back to Elizabeth and said, "Mr Darcy will not believe what your mother says, anymore than I, or Jane or your Uncle do. He sees _you_, Lizzy. He sees the warm, caring, intelligent, witty, lively, and generous woman we all love and admire." Mrs Gardiner took Elizabeth's hand. "Tell him, Lizzy. And you will see that I am right."

Elizabeth stared into the warm, loving eyes of her Aunt. How different her life would have been if she had been raised as her daughter instead of her mamas. Was her Aunt right? Would Mr Darcy understand? What if he realized that her mother was right, that she was unworthy of his esteem. The thought of losing Mr Darcy's regard sent a sharp pain through her heart. She took a deep breath. "I will think about it, Aunt."

Mrs Gardiner searched her niece's eyes, noting the uncertainty and fear. She sighed. "He will find out eventually, Lizzy. I think it would be best coming from you. You need to trust him, my dear."

Elizabeth swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart beating painfully in her chest. Trust. She trusted so few people in her life. But if she wanted a future with him, she would have open up to him. And she wanted that future with him, more than anything. Her Aunt was right, she had to tell him. There was no other way. She straightened and said with resolve, "I will tell him, before he asks me to be his wife."

Mrs Gardiner smiled proudly at her niece. "Good." She patted Elizabeth's hand. "Now, let's speak of other things. I have a favor to ask of you and Jane. However, it will interfere with whatever plans Mr Darcy and the Colonel have for tomorrow."

Elizabeth looked at her Aunt with curiosity. "What is the favor, Aunt?"

"Several of the ladies I volunteer with at the Foundling Hospital have sent word that they will not be able to come tomorrow. I hate to ask you to give up an opportunity to be with Mr Darcy, but would you be willing to come?"

Elizabeth smiled. in pleasure. "Of course I will. That is no favor, Aunt. I have always wanted to see what you do there. I would be happy to help."

Mrs Gardiner beamed. "Wonderful. Thank you so much, my dear. I know you will love it. There are so many children, that the staff are not able to spend much quality time with them. We simply go and hold the babies or play with the younger children."

"I am surprised you have not asked me sooner, Aunt." Elizabeth would be sorry to miss seeing Mr Darcy tomorrow, but it would give her time to gather her courage to talk about her mother.

With a sly smile, Mrs Gardiner replied, "I would have thought that was obvious, my dear Lizzy."

Elizabeth smiled and said teasingly, "Well, perhaps Mr Darcy could come as well."

Elizabeth and her Aunt laughed in amusement. Mrs Gardiner stood up and with a wink said, "I'm sure if you asked him, he would come. I think I would like to see the proper Mr Darcy romping around with the children." With a knowing smile, she said, "It would give you an idea of how he would act with his own children." Laughing at her nieces embarrassment, she left to go talk with Jane.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Darcy approached Gardiner's study with determination, hopeful that Gardiner would know who the man was. He couldn't countenance any other possibility. The idea that the man could have some nefarious purpose towards Elizabeth made his blood run cold.

Gardiner stood when Darcy entered. "Ah, Darcy. What can I do for you?"

Darcy shook Gardiners hand before sitting across from him, running a hand through his hair. He looked up to meet Gardiner's amused gaze.

Gardiner leaned forward. "This doesn't have to do with my niece, does it? You don't waste any time, Darcy."

Darcy flushed. Of course Gardiner thought he was here seeking permission for Elizabeth's hand. He wished that was the purpose of his visit rather than seeking the identity of a man who could possibly mean harm to his Elizabeth. Gravely he said, "No, I am not here seeking permission for Miss Elizabeth's hand, Gardiner. But, what I have to say does concern Miss Elizabeth."

Gardiner looked at Darcy with lowered brows. "Indeed? Well, then you better tell me. Judging by your grim expression, I don't expect pleasant tidings."

Darcy took a deep breath and began relating to him what had occurred earlier at The Royal Menagerie. "I didn't get a chance to confront him. As soon as he saw me approaching he turned and left in a hurry. I didn't see him as we left, so I am hoping that is the last we see of him. But..." Darcy rubbed his forehead, "judging by Miss Elizabeth's reaction to the man, he caused her no small amount of unease and distress."

Gardiner rubbed his head in concern. "What can you tell me of this man?"

Darcy rubbed his chin in thought. "He was of average height, perhaps slightly shorter than you. He was older, I would guess fifty or thereabouts. He was dressed well, but I am sure that he was not a gentleman. Perhaps a solicitor, or a successful businessman."

Gardiner ignored Darcy's remark that the man was not a gentleman and asked, "Did he have any distinguishing characteristics? A limp, or disfigurement of some kind?"

Darcy slowly shook his head. "No, he seemed remarkably...ordinary. I was not close enough to determine even the color of his eyes, or if he had any distinguishing marks upon his face." Darcy sighed in frustration. "I was hoping that you knew him or of him. The idea of an unknown man recognizing Miss Elizabeth makes me uneasy and quite frankly, worried."

Gardiner looked at Darcy in satisfaction. Although, the news Darcy shared was disconcerting, it warmed his heart to know that Elizabeth's well being was already of utmost importance to him. Elizabeth would be well taken care of. He sighed. "Well, I don't know what to say, Darcy. I don't believe this man is of my acquaintance, but I could be wrong. All we can do is be vigilant and hope that nothing comes of it."

Darcy stood and began pacing in agitation. "That's not good enough, Gardiner!" He stopped, running his hand through his hair. "Forgive me." Darcy turned to face Elizabeth's Uncle and with anguish in his eyes, asked, "What if he means her harm?"

Carefully, Gardiner asked, "Are you sure the man is not an acquaintance of yours?"

Darcy nodded his head, "Yes, I am sure. I know I have never seen the man before. Besides, I don't think Miss Elizabeth would have been so shaken if he had been staring intently at me."

Gardiner raised his brows. "No? I would not be too sure, Darcy," he said dryly.

Darcy smiled in contentment that Elizabeth would be concerned for him. But he knew, instinctively that the man had somehow recognized her. This had nothing to do with him. Suddenly a chilling thought came to his mind. "Gardiner. Could it be possible that he mistook Miss Elizabeth for someone else? Someone who resembled her in some way?"

Gardiner stared at Darcy, his face turning white as realization set in. Yes, it was very possible.

Darcy, noticing Gardiner's pale visage, asked in alarm, "What? Gardiner, am I right?"

Gardiner took a deep breath. Why hadn't he thought of this possibility? He had a strong feeling he knew who had so upset his niece earlier and who exactly the man thought he was seeing. He rubbed his forehead. His past was catching up to him. Again. "Yes, Darcy. It is very possible."

Darcy stared at Gardiner. After a moment of silence, he asked impatiently, "Well? Who does she resemble and why would this man care?"

Gardiner looked at Darcy, feeling very tired. He sighed. Resting his hands on the desk in front of him, he looked down, gathering his courage for what he had to say. He would not share all, but enough. "It is possible the man thought he was seeing Elizabeth's mother, my sister Fanny."

Darcy took a seat, looking at Gardiner in confusion. "Her mother? Elizabeth looks like her mother?"

Gardiner smiled sadly, "Remarkably so, Darcy. There are differences of course, the greatest being the difference in their ages, but despite my sister's bitterness she is still a very lovely woman. But from a distance it would not be as noticeable."

Darcy stared at Gardiner in bewilderment. "I don't understand. Why would Mrs Bennet treat her daughter so contemptuously if she is so much like her?"

"Why indeed?" Gardiner mumbled. Louder, he said, "I have never tried to understand the convoluted workings of my sister's mind. I have my suspicions, but I am not certain why." _Oh, he knew. He knew all too well._

"And this man, who thinks he saw Mrs Bennet? Who is he?" Darcy was so close to getting his answers. If he could just resolve that this man posed no threat to Elizabeth, he would be relieved.

Gardiner pursed his lips, and slowly said, "I believe he may be an old acquaintance of our family from years ago."

"I ask again, Gardiner. Who is he? And what does he have to do with Mrs Bennet?"

"He knew my sister, Darcy. He probably was surprised to see someone who resembled my sister after so many years."

Darcy narrowed his eyes. Gardiner was withholding information and he didn't like it. "Who. Is. He?"

Gardiner sighed, rubbing his head. "I am not entirely sure it is the same man. I could be wrong. The man I am thinking of moved to Scotland years ago. I haven't heard from him since."

Darcy sighed in frustration. "Then why stare at Miss Elizabeth in a way that made her clearly uncomfortable? Is he a threat?"

Gardiner thought about Darcy's question. Was he a threat? He swallowed hard at the thought that _he_ could be out for revenge. But now, after all these years? What could he gain by it?

Darcy watched Gardiner intensely, and saw the flash of uncertainty in his eyes. He clenched his jaw in anger and in a forbidding tone, asked, "Give me his name and I will make sure that he poses no threat."

Gardiner looked at Darcy, and said firmly, "Elizabeth is still my responsibility, Darcy. I will make inquiries. I will find out if he is in England."

Darcy stood and began pacing, his anger barely contained. "And in the meantime? What if he tries to harm Elizabeth?"

Gardiner shook his head, "I think that is very unlikely."

Darcy stared at Gardiner, searching his eyes. "Look me in the eyes and tell me that this man poses no threat to Elizabeth, Gardiner."

Gardiner sighed. He couldn't give Darcy the reassurance he needed. If it was John Williamson, then he could very well have a vendetta against him. And if he used Elizabeth to get back at him? There were too many unanswered questions. He first needed to establish if Williamson was even in London. He ran his hand over his head, looking Darcy in the eyes as he said somberly, "If it is the man I am thinking of, I cannot tell you with absolute certainty that he means Elizabeth no harm."

Darcy closed his eyes, pain lancing through his heart. Why had he taken her to the Menagerie? If only he had stayed here, none of this would have happened. "We must keep her safe, Gardiner."

"She will be, Darcy. I will ensure her safety," Gardiner said soothingly.

Decisively, Darcy said, "She must not leave this house until we can ascertain the whereabouts of this man. What is his name, Gardiner? I can have my contacts search for him as well." Darcy continued pacing, his mind busy with ways to keep Elizabeth safe. Maybe he could hire protection? He was sure Richard would know of some men who could do it.

Gardiner held up his hands, "Wait, Darcy. I think that is going a little too far. There is no need for Elizabeth to become a prisoner. The last thing I want to do is alarm her. It is better if we make our enquiries and be aware of where she is at all times. To be honest, Darcy, if the man wishes to harm anyone, I believe it would be Marianne, not Elizabeth."

Darcy stopped pacing and looked at Gardiner is shock. "Mrs Gardiner? Why?"

Gardiner sighed. So many secrets. "This man, John Williamson may hold a vendetta against me. I did something...years ago. He would want to harm my love as I kept him from his."

Darcy stared at Gardiner in confusion. What could he mean? Unless, this John Williamson was something more to Mrs Bennet? "What do you mean? Does this have to do with why Mr Williamson was so interested in Elizabeth? Because he thought he was seeing her mother?"

Gardiner nodded. "Yes, I believe that John thought he was seeing Fanny. And after so many years...well, I can imagine it would have come as quite a shock."

Darcy sat and said firmly, "What happened between them?"

Gardiner shook his head emphatically, "You don't need to know the particulars, Darcy. It is not important. What's done is done. All you need to know is that he may hold some resentment against me and my family."

Darcy glared at Gardiner. This was unacceptable! Darcy stood to go, anxious to make sure Elizabeth was well. Gardiner was right about one thing, he didn't want to cause her undue worry or stress. But he needed to say something to ease her mind. Before he reached the door, Gardiner called to him. He stopped but didn't turn around.

"Darcy, say nothing of this to Elizabeth or to anyone. Make your enquiries, but please don't do anything rash. He may be harmless after all."

Darcy turned to stare incredulously at Gardiner. "How can you say he holds a grudge against you and may harm your wife in one breath and excuse him of ill intent the next?" Darcy shook his head, "I will do what I must to protect Elizabeth, Gardiner. You cannot stop me." And with that he turned and strode from the room.

"No, but Elizabeth might." Gardiner mumbled.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Elizabeth remained at the pianoforte after her Aunt left, absentmindedly playing a piece from memory. She sighed softly. She knew her Aunt was right, Mr Darcy needed to be told about her mother. But how to tell him? When? She closed her eyes, groaning softly.

"Are you well, Miss Elizabeth?" Miss Darcy's hesitant inquiry jolted Elizabeth from her thoughts.

Elizabeth abruptly stopped playing, looking up at Miss Darcy in surprise. "Oh, yes. I am quite well, Miss Darcy. Thank you."

Miss Darcy smiled. She fidgeted with her hands, suddenly unsure of her request. She blurted out, "May I ask something of you, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth smiled to reassure her young friend, who was obviously distressed about something. "Of course, Miss Darcy. Please, you may ask me anything you like."

Miss Darcy smiled brightly. "I would love it if you would call me Georgiana. It seems silly to be addressed as Miss Darcy when you are almost my sister."

Elizabeth blushed at Miss Darcy's reference to her relationship with her brother. But wisely, she didn't say anything. "I would be honored, Georgiana. You have such a lovely name. Please, I would love it if you would call me Lizzy, like my sisters."

Georgiana's eyes sparkled with delight. "Oh, I would. Thank you so much, Lizzy!" With a happy sigh, she sat next to Elizabeth and began playing as she gathered her thoughts. "I want to thank you for making my brother so happy."

Elizabeth started in surprise, blushing slightly, "Oh, I haven't done much, Georgiana."

Georgiana stopped playing, turning to Elizabeth as she protested, "Oh, but you have! You can't know how he has changed these past few weeks. Do you remember at the bookstore how I said I was worried about him, that he had been so down lately?"

Elizabeth nodded, her brow lowered in concern. She did remember. He made reference to his feeling of hopelessness when he asked to court her. He had said that since he met her he would never be that way again. Her mind lingered on that memory and how he had looked at her...she blushed hotly.

"Are you well, Lizzy? I hope I didn't say anything to upset you?" Georgiana said in slight distress.

"Oh no!" Elizabeth was quick to reassure her young friend. "You didn't upset me. It is just a little warm, that is all."

Georgiana looked at her with chagrin. "Oh, and here I am crowding you on this bench. Forgive me, Lizzy." Georgiana stood to move, but was taken by the arm and pulled back down beside her friend.

"Don't be ridiculous, Georgiana. It is nothing, I assure you." Elizabeth smiled at Georgiana. "Now, there was something you wished to ask me?"

Georgiana nodded her head, "Yes, I was wondering...that is, if it would not be too much trouble..."

Elizabeth laughed. "Just ask me, Georgiana. I promise I won't say no." Elizabeth looked up from Georgiana, startled to see Mr Darcy standing just inside the door, staring at her in the most peculiar fashion. She raised her brow, cocking her head in silent inquiry. She was rewarded with a soft smile.

Georgiana, noticing Elizabeth's preoccupation, followed her gaze to where it rested on her brother. She stood, chuckling, "Well, I will talk to you later, Lizzy."

Elizabeth stood, "Oh, that is not necessary, Georgiana. Please, forgive me."

Georgiana shook her head and smiled. Moving to sit beside her cousin, she greeted her brother as he made his way to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth stood beside the pianoforte, watching Mr Darcy make his way towards her, her heart beating loudly in her chest. _The affect this man had on her._ As he drew nearer, she noticed his expression was grave. She took a deep breath and hesitantly asked, "What did you learn from my Uncle?"

Darcy stood before Elizabeth, searching her beloved face. How could he keep her safe? What would he do if anything happened to her? He forced himself to smile and said reassuringly, "It went well, Elizabeth. There is no need for you to worry."

Elizabeth searched his face, but his expression was guarded. She felt, instinctively that he was keeping something from her. "What did he say? Does my Uncle know him?"

"Yes, he is an acquaintance of your Uncle's."

Elizabeth nodded slowly, as she said, uncertainly, "So, all is well, then?"

"Yes, all is well." Darcy took Elizabeth's arm, leading her away from the others. He took the seat next to her but did not speak.

Elizabeth glanced at Mr Darcy, surprised at his distant behavior. Unlike previous occasions when they sat in companionable silence; now, the silence felt heavy with things unspoken between them. She didn't like it. Mr Darcy was obviously lost in thought, his brows lowered in concentration. Ignoring the sense of unease she felt, she asked lightly, "What has you looking so serious, Mr Darcy?"

Darcy looked up to meet Elizabeth's sparkling eyes. He sighed. At least she didn't seem concerned over what happened earlier that day and he wanted to keep it that way. He said evasively, "I was just thinking of how we should occupy our time tomorrow. If it is still raining, we could go to the museum or..." Darcy stopped at the look on Elizabeth's face.

Elizabeth bit her lip and said apologetically, "I am sorry, Mr Darcy but I have a prior engagement tomorrow with my Aunt and Jane."

Abruptly, Darcy asked, "What prior engagement, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth looked at Mr Darcy, puzzled by his tone. She replied, "Our Aunt has asked for our help at the Foundling Hospital tomorrow, Mr Darcy." With a smile, she added, "So you will have to forgo my company for one day."

Darcy shook his head. "No."

Elizabeth stared at Mr Darcy in surprise. "I beg your pardon? I don't quite understand you, Mr Darcy."

"I mean, no, you are not going." Darcy said firmly.

Elizabeth blinked at Mr Darcy, her ire rising. "Excuse me, Mr Darcy, but I don't believe I was asking for your permission. My sister and I have committed to helping my Aunt and we are going. I am sorry if that interferes with your plans, but it cannot be helped."

Darcy stood, his expression hard and said resolutely, "I forbid it, Elizabeth! You will stay here tomorrow." He couldn't let her leave! Not until he found the man and had him followed and watched. He would not risk her safety.

Elizabeth's face went pale as she stared up at Mr Darcy. Then flushing with indignation, she stood, her eyes blazing, fists clenched at her side. In a low voice, she retorted, "You forbid me, Mr Darcy? You don't have the right to tell me what to do, sir. I bid you good day." Elizabeth quickly curtsied before leaving the room as quickly as possible.

Darcy stood, stunned. What just happened? He just wanted to keep her safe! He groaned, running his hand through his hair. He looked up to meet the censorious gazes of the others in the room. Georgiana was staring at him with wide eyes, her hand covering her mouth. Mrs Gardiners expression showed extreme disappointment, whereas, Miss Bennet was fighting back tears; Richard just looked shocked.

Darcy walked to Mrs Gardiner, meeting her disapproving glare. "Mrs Gardiner, would you please fetch Miss Elizabeth? I need to explain myself. Please." Darcy had to make Elizabeth understand without divulging too many details that she was not safe.

Mrs Gardiner assessed Mr Darcy for a brief moment. Her countenance softened at the remorse she saw in his eyes. Quietly, she replied, "I think, Mr Darcy it would be best to let her calm down. Lizzy is in no state to hear what you have to say."

Darcy closed his eyes, nodding his head. "I think we have trespassed on your hospitality long enough. We will leave you now." He bowed to Mrs Gardiner and Miss Bennet.

"Yes, of course, Mr Darcy." Mrs Gardiner showed them out, discreetly pulling Mr Darcy aside. Softly, she said, "I would give her a day or two, Mr Darcy. There are things that you don't know about Lizzy." Mrs Gardiner hesitated. "She...does not take kindly to those who try to exert control over her." Mrs Gardiner hoped she was not breaking Elizabeth's confidence, but Mr Darcy needed to understand why she reacted the way she did.

Darcy stared at Mrs Gardiner in dismay. He only sought to protect Elizabeth and he ended up hurting her, horribly. He nodded to Mrs Gardiner in acknowledgement, too angry at his appalling behavior to speak. With a heavy heart he left the Gardiner Townhouse, determined to spend his waking hours finding John Williamson and ensuring that he was not a threat to Elizabeth or anyone else.

A/N: Ah, there's the officious Darcy we all know and love! It looks like Elizabeth is getting some flowers :) So, you now have more info on the Mrs Bennet mystery - what do you think? The entirety of what happened will not be revealed until Elizabeth heads back to Longbourn, but I think I've given you enough to whet your appetite. So, is John Williamson a threat? What do you think?

I will reward those who review this chapter with a nice preview, that may possibly have Darcy climbing a tree ;) I'm just saying. So please REVIEW! If not for the preview, but to tell me how wonderful I am for posting a day early!

Love you guys!


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Okay, so the tree climbing does not happen in this chapter, but the next :( If you haven't noticed, I'm rather...ah...detailed in my writing and I severely misjudged how long it would take to get to that tree climbing scene. But, as promised, I did send a preview to everyone who reviewed last chapter (except for the guests and accounts that don't have PM enabled - sorry!) For everyone who reviews this chapter I will send that tree climbing scene and for those that already have it, I will send a different preview of next chapter that may possibility involve flowers :) So, go ahead and read and REVIEW!

Chapter 20

As soon as Elizabeth left the Drawing room she ran, her face wet with tears of anger and dismay. _How dare he? _ She stumbled her way to the Oak tree, unaware of the drizzling rain, collapsing on the damp bench as she gave way to her tears. How could he act so...so...domineering? So controlling? She sat up, trying unsuccessfully to wipe away her tears. She took deep breaths to calm her racing heart but the ache she felt would not subside. She felt betrayed. Betrayed by him and especially by herself and her weak womanly heart. She thought she knew him? That he was her future? Hah! How could she desire a future with a man who turned out to be just like her mother! _I forbid it. _The same words her mother used. Her blood ran cold and she felt her heart harden. So this is what disillusionment felt like. Shame on her for believing that Mr Darcy was different, for building up her hopes and dreams. Her mother was right, all men would disappoint and deceive her in the end. She was better off alone. The thought brought Elizabeth no comfort, but led to another round of sobbing.

After an indeterminate length of time, Elizabeth stood, her tears spent. She was done. She would waste no more time, thoughts or energy on that man. Resolute, she made her way back to the house, head high.

As she entered the house she saw Jane approaching wearing a worried expression. Elizabeth sighed softly. Before her sister could say anything, Elizabeth forestalled her by saying, "I am well, Jane." The slight quiver in her voice betrayed her troubled heart and mind.

Jane looked compassionately at her sister. "You are not well, Lizzy. And I would be disappointed in you if you were. I won't press you to confide in me now, but you need to talk about this, Lizzy. Don't shut me out, please."

Elizabeth nodded, afraid to speak for fear of crying. Jane knew her too well. Wordlessly, she embraced her sister before walking away. She felt listless and she was beginning to get a fierce headache from all her crying. She just wanted to forget this day had ever happened. Was it just earlier this afternoon that she had joked with Mr Darcy about his birthday present? She shook her head as if to rid her thoughts of that gentleman.

She entered her room, closing the door firmly behind her. _Alone_. She was alone. The aching pain returned in full force and she unleashed her pent up tears. Closing her eyes, she slid down to the floor, burying her head in her hands and gave way to her grief. She cried for all the times she felt helpless against her mother's admonitions and directives, her harsh criticisms and constant belittling. What was it about her that made people think they could control her? To be treated so disrespectfully by her mother and now, Mr Darcy. There must be something wrong in the very fabric of her soul. She stumbled to her feet and made her way to her bed, collapsing on the counterpane, exhausted and heartsick. Curling up, she forced her mind to be still and thankfully drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Elizabeth woke chilled, uncomfortable and exhausted. With a groan, she sat up, stretching her cramped muscles. She made her way to her dressing table, sitting ungracefully on the chair.

Sarah entered in an unusually subdued manner. Instead of her normal cheerful greeting, she took one look at Elizabeth and promptly said, "Begging your pardon, Miss Lizzy, but you look awful."

Elizabeth grimaced, gazing at her disheveled appearance in the mirror. Her dress from the day before was hopelessly wrinkled and stained from the rain. Her hair was an untidy mess, long strands hanging down her back in a tangled mass. Red rimmed eyes punctuated with dark circles under her eyes, evidence of her restless night.

"I have your bath ready for you, Miss Lizzy," Sarah said softly as she came and began removing the remaining pins from her disheveled hair.

"Thank you, Sarah."

An hour later, Elizabeth left her room, evidence of her restless night erased save her slightly red and exhausted eyes.

Conversation ceased as she entered the small dining room. Wordlessly, she went to the sideboard, helping herself before sitting next to her sister. She took a deep breath before looking up to meet the sympathetic looks of her Aunt, Uncle and sister. She smiled, shaking her head. "No need to look at me like that, I will be well."

"We know that, my dear," Mr Gardiner said kindly. "But, we can't help but be worried about you."

Wordlessly, Elizabeth nodded. Her Uncle stood, squeezing her shoulder before leaving. Unbidden, tears formed in her eyes at her Uncle's kind gesture. This was ridiculous! She couldn't remember the last time she acted like such a watering pot.

"Lizzy..." Mrs Gardiner began hesitantly.

Elizabeth held up a hand. "Please, Aunt. I don't want to talk about it."

Mrs Gardiner sighed deeply, looking at her niece with kindness and understanding. "Very well. If that is what you wish."

"It is." Elizabeth said firmly.

Mrs Gardiner exchanged a worried look with Jane before saying with forced cheerfulness, "Well, let's talk about this afternoon, shall we? We are expected at the Foundling Hospital after luncheon. Would that be agreeable, girls? Although..." Mrs Gardiner hesitated. "Perhaps, given the circumstances, I would understand if you remained here, Lizzy."

Elizabeth's head shot up and she stared at her Aunt in consternation. "I am going, Aunt," she said decisively. "I am not ill."

"Not in body, perhaps," Jane said quietly.

"Jane, please," Elizabeth said pleadingly. She was not ready to talk about it. Not now, when the pain was still so raw.

"You know you need to talk about this, Lizzy."

Elizabeth sighed, looking at the resolute expression of her sister. She knew Jane would not let this go, it was the same whenever her mother did or said something to upset her. "I know. But, later. Please?"

Jane nodded, satisfied. "Very well. After we get back from the Foundling Hospital." At Elizabeth's protest, Jane said determinedly, "Lizzy, I know you. If you let this go on too long, it will fester and turn to bitterness."

"Jane is right, Lizzy. You know she is," Mrs Gardiner said gently.

Elizabeth conceded defeat. "Very well." Elizabeth could not deny that talking with someone, especially Jane helped her to move past the hurt caused by her mother. She didn't know if the same would hold true to moving past Mr Darcy's betrayal. She had allowed herself to believe in him, in them. Feeling her eyes fill with tears, Elizabeth hastily excused herself and left the table.

Wanting to be alone, she headed back to her room. As she neared her Uncle's study she heard the unmistakable voice of Mr Darcy and Simmons, the butler. She halted, looking around frantically for a place to hide. She couldn't see him, not now! She quickly hid in a small window alcove, shutting the drapes to hide herself. She stood perfectly still, not daring to breathe as she waited for him to pass. No sooner had she closed the drapes, then the heavy footfalls of Simmons followed by the confident stride of Mr Darcy were heard. She shut her eyes as they passed, willing Simmons to not notice the closed drapes.

They paused outside her Uncle's study and she heard Mr Darcy ask Simmons if she were at home. Elizabeth's breath caught and her heart began pounding. He wanted to see her?

"I believe she is breaking her fast, sir. Do you wish to see her, sir?"

Elizabeth held her breath, half in fear and half anticipation at his reply. Her heart sank as she heard him say no. Elizabeth fought back tears, the ache in her heart overwhelming painful. _Foolish girl!_ She should not be surprised. She didn't want to see him, anyway.

As soon as Mr Darcy was with her Uncle in his study she burst out of the alcove, startling Simmons who had come to pull back the drapes. With a hasty, "Excuse me, Simmons." She quickly retreated to her bedroom, silent tears running unchecked down her face.

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Darcy ascended the steps to Gardiners with a single purpose, find Mr John Williamson as soon as possible so he could remove the potential threat to Elizabeth. He quickly realized that working together with Gardiner would be the most effective way in accomplishing his goal. Until Mr Williamson was located, he was resolved to do everything in his power to ensure Elizabeth's safety. To this end, he had informed Richard of the events of the previous day to gain his support. Despite, Richard's anger and shock at his officious behavior towards Elizabeth he had not hesitated to offer his assistance. By the end of the day, two former soldiers were hired to protect Elizabeth.

As the butler led him to Gardiners study, Darcy hoped for a glimpse of Elizabeth. He was trusting Mrs Gardiners advice to give Elizabeth some time before explaining his behavior. He did not consider himself a patient man and it rankled that he could not correct his mistake immediately. He would never forgive himself for causing her pain. Despite his good intentions, it in no way excused his overbearing behavior. She had every right to react the way she did. She had even warned him of her obstinate tendencies earlier. _Heaven help him, indeed_.

Despite everything, he was grateful that Elizabeth was so strong-willed and knew her own mind. He did not desire a passive wife who agreed with his every order without so much as a whimper. He smiled. Life with her would never be dull. But in order to secure his happiness, he had to apologize, grovel if need be. But first, he needed to talk to Gardiner.

"Simmons, Colonel Fitzwilliam will be joining us shortly, please have him shown in immediately."

"Very good, sir."

As Darcy passed a window alcove, he detected the barest scent of Jasmine. _Elizabeth._ A sudden longing to see her overwhelmed him. "Simmons, is Miss Elizabeth at home?" The butler informed him that she was breaking her fast and inquired if he wished to see her. _Yes._ He hesitated briefly before responding, regretfully, "No." Gardiner first. Then he could focus all his attention on gaining her forgiveness.

The meeting with Gardiner was short and to the point. Not surprisingly, he protested Darcy bearing the entirety of the expense of the hired men. He debated, as he was Elizabeth's guardian, her well being was his responsibility, not Darcy's. After some heated arguing, Darcy finally agreed to allow Gardiner to pay half.

As soon as Richard arrived, the planning to locate John Williamson began. Richard, used to taking charge in such situations, said without preamble, "Tell me everything you know about Mr John Williamson, Gardiner."

Gardiner leaned back, folding his hands on his stomach. "When I knew him, he was a simple clerk. But after he moved to Scotland, he became a solicitor. I lost all contact with him after that."

"Where did he live in Scotland?" Richard asked.

"I believe he went to live with some relatives in Edinburgh. As far as I know, he remained there."

"What do you know of his family?"

"Very little. His parents died when he was a young man. His father had a sister who moved to Edinburgh after she married. They were his only living relatives. I know that he lived with them when he first moved to Scotland. But, like I said, I don't know if he remained there."

"His Aunt's name?"

"Her married name is McDonald. I do not know her first name."

Richard looked at Darcy. "This might prove difficult, Darcy. Do you know how many McDonald's probably live in or near Edinburgh?"

"Yes, but how many have a nephew named John Williamson?"

"That's assuming he didn't change his name when he came to England," Richard muttered under his breath.

Gardiner and Darcy stared at Richard in alarm. Richard explained, "It is not uncommon, especially if one is trying to run from his past or forge a new life. And if this man has a reason to hold a grudge and is seeking revenge, well...it is more likely that he changed his name. Do you know the maiden name of his mother?"

"Why?" Gardiner asked in surprise.

"It is the most likely name he would adopt. Men like to keep some remnant of their past, even if they are trying to forget it," Richard explained.

Gardiner raised his brows. "Indeed. I will not ask how you know that. Let's see, his mother's maiden name I believe was Bailey."

"So we need to search not only for a John Williamson but John Bailey as well?" Darcy asked, running a hand through his hair.

Richard nodded. "Unfortunately, yes."

"I still do not know if John Williamson is the man that you saw, Darcy. It could be someone else." Gardiner hoped it was so. He didn't want to face that man again, not after what he did.

"You and I know that is not true, Gardiner." Darcy said firmly.

Gardiner sighed and grudgingly agreed. "Yes, you are right. I can't think of a single person who would react so upon seeing Elizabeth. I am sure that he thought he was seeing a ghost."

"What do you mean?" Richard asked, looking at Gardiner in confusion.

Gardiner turned white, realizing what he had said. He waved his hand dismissively. "Just that seeing someone who resembled my sister probably came as quite a shock."

Darcy's eyes narrowed. It was obvious that Gardiner was lying. He glanced at Richard, who wore a similar expression of disbelief on his face. Well, he would not get into that now. It was more important that they find John Williamson, not delve into his past.

The three men quickly came to an agreement on the course of action to take to find the man. They would meet on Monday to share what they had discovered.

As Darcy stood to leave, he turned to Gardiner and said, "In light of what happened yesterday between Miss Elizabeth and I, I believe that keeping her in the dark is not in her best interests." _Or mine._

Gardiner stared at Darcy for a moment, before sighing heavily. "Yes, I believe there is some truth to that." Leveling a stern look at Darcy, he said, "It still doesn't excuse how you treated Elizabeth yesterday, Darcy."

"I know. And I plan on apologizing to her. But, I think it would help if she knew why I acted the way I did."

"Are you asking my permission, Darcy?" Gardiner asked with raised brows.

"No. I am asking, as Miss Elizabeth's guardian to tell her what is going on. If you will not, then I will." Darcy said decisively.

Gardiners eyes narrowed. "And if I forbid it?"

Darcy barely refrained from rolling his eyes. "Do you really want to go there, Gardiner? Especially in light of what has happened with Miss Elizabeth? I assure you, I am not opposed to arguing with you, but I believe we have more important things to do. I will tell Miss Elizabeth, Gardiner. I am just giving you the courtesy of telling her first."

Gardiner and Darcy stared at each other, neither breaking eye contact. Out of the corner of his eye, Darcy saw Richard pull out his watch to see how long they remained locked in a silent battle of wills.

Finally, Gardiner nodded his head. "Very well, Darcy. I will tell her. But only because I wish to tell Marianne. If I tell my wife, I might as well tell my niece. I want them both to be on their guard."

Darcy nodded his head, satisfied. "Thank you, Gardiner."

"A word of advice, Darcy. Don't let Elizabeth get away with her behavior yesterday. Although, she was justified in her anger, she behaved disrespectfully. She has always been too headstrong. Rein her in now Darcy, or you will never have a moment's peace." Gardiner watched Darcy carefully as he deliberately lied. Truth be told, he was proud of Elizabeth for not bowing to Darcy's high-handed ways.

Darcy clenched his jaw in anger. In a tense voice, he replied, "I will treat Elizabeth as an equal, Gardiner. If I wanted a docile and obedient wife who followed me blindly, I would marry my horse. I value Elizabeth's strong will and independent spirit. I will not rein her in, but allow her to run free. Good day, Gardiner."

Gardiner smiled in satisfaction as Darcy left with Colonel Fitzwilliam. Yes, Darcy was the perfect man for his niece. He already cared for her wellbeing as if she were already his wife. And he firmly believed that adversity brought out the best and worst in people; this misunderstanding would forge a stronger bond between them. Yes, Darcy was a man he would be proud to call nephew.

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Elizabeth followed her Aunt and sister into the front entrance of the Foundling Hospital in Bloomsbury. As soon as she entered the large, double doors, she smiled at the sounds of children clearly heard in the distance. This would be a very welcome distraction from her somber thoughts. She politely greeted the matron of the hospital as she bustled up to meet her Aunt. Elizabeth curtsied as she was introduced, looking around curiously. Her Aunt addressed her, bringing her attention back.

"Lizzy, I think the infant's room could use another hand. Would you mind?"

Elizabeth smiled, pleased. "Of course not, Aunt. You know how much I love babies."

Mrs Gardiner chuckled. "Yes, I know. Jane and I will be with the older children down the hall if you need anything."

"I will be fine. Don't worry about me." Elizabeth shooed her Aunt and Jane before following the matron to where the infants were kept.

The matron kept up a steady stream of cheerful chatter as they walked. "You won't be alone, Miss. There will be another volunteer with you as well as a member of our staff. You will be fine," she said reassuringly, mistaking Elizabeth's silence for unease.

Elizabeth nodded, happy to listen to the chatter of the matron. As she entered the infant room, she stopped abruptly in shock as the last person she expected to see stood in front of her holding a small infant.

"Lady Worthington!" Elizabeth cried, before realizing that most of the babies were sleeping.

Lady Worthington winked, a contented smile on her face. In a subdued voice, she said, "Miss Elizabeth, how good to see you, my dear."

Elizabeth walked over to Lady Worthington, peering down at the sleeping babe in her arms. She reached out a finger and gently caressed the soft face. "So sweet," she murmured.

"Yes, I have to admit, little Rose is my favorite." Lady Worthington said, gazing lovingly at the babe.

"I admit, I am surprised to see you here, my lady." Elizabeth said without thought. Realizing what she said, her eyes widened in dismay. "I mean..that is to say..."

Lady Worthington laughed softly, her eyes twinkling with good humor. "I know what you mean, my dear. I am sure many would not expect to see an elderly woman like myself to be in a place like this." Her eyes saddened and a flash of regret passed over her countenance. "Truth is, like your Aunt, my Roger and I were not blessed with children. I find that coming here lessens the ache a bit."

Elizabeth looked at Lady Worthington with new understanding. Quietly, she said, "I was not aware, my lady. I am sorry."

"Oh fiddle faddle. I find fulfillment in other ways. Like taking an avid interest in the love affairs of others," she said with a wink. "Like you and your Mr Darcy. Now, that brings me great joy."

Elizabeth paled and looked away before Lady Worthington could note the sudden welling of tears in her eyes. Thankfully, a baby was placed in her arms and she was able to direct her tearful gaze toward the infant. Her subterfuge did not go unnoticed by the keen eyes of Lady Worthington.

"Here now, what's this?" Lady Worthington moved so she could peruse Elizabeth's face. Her eyes narrowed and she said curtly, "What did he do?"

Elizabeth stared at Lady Worthington. Was nothing beneath her notice? "I am sure I don't understand you, my lady."

Lady Worthington snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, my girl. I am old, not senile. I can see the evidence of a sleepless night and judging by your red rimmed eyes, you've done a fair amount of weeping. Unless there has been a death in your family, I don't know what else would cause you to weep so unless your lover did something. So, I ask again. What did that sapscull (1) do?"

Elizabeth stared at Lady Worthington biting her lip to keep from laughing. She certainly had a way of getting directly to the point. She took a deep breath, before meeting the amused gaze of Lady Worthington.

"Well, am I right?"

Elizabeth sighed, looking down at the infant in her arms. She didn't want to discuss what happened, but she knew Lady Worthington would be relentless until she knew all. Besides, she was grateful for Lady Worthington's assistance in keeping her courtship with Mr Darcy a secret. _Not that it matters now_. No doubt that was why Mr Darcy wished to see her Uncle this morning, to put an end to their courtship. Elizabeth ignored the sharp pain in her heart at the thought. Quietly, she told Lady Worthington all that had occurred between them the day before.

Lady Worthington shook her head in exasperation. "Well, of all the bird-witted things to do. I guess I should not be surprised. It sounds like your Mr Darcy is just like his father, poor boy."

Elizabeth looked at Lady Worthington in surprise. "You knew Mr Darcy's father?"

"Oh yes, and his mother, Lady Anne. I have never seen a couple so in love, except perhaps for you and your Mr Darcy. I guess Mr Darcy is just like his father in that regard as well," Lady Worthington said with a wink.

Elizabeth blushed at Lady Worthington's admission. "I don't know about that," she said quietly.

Lady Worthington gave her a sharp, calculating look. "Miss Elizabeth, there is something you need to understand about the Darcy men. They are proud and overbearing, used to getting their own way in well...everything. I know George and Lady Anne had quite a few arguments during their marriage because she would not give in to his officious tendencies. I am glad you are of like mind. It takes a strong woman to live with a Darcy, but I have no doubt you will be able to handle it."

"I'm not sure I want to," Elizabeth said quietly to herself.

Lady Worthington snorted. "Don't be a fool, my girl. Despite their proud nature, the Darcy's are also extremely protective and loyal. I have never seen a more attentive and considerate husband than George Darcy, and his son will be just the same way. I bet my favorite turban, Mr Darcy acted the way he did out of a desire to protect you. Did something happen that would cause him to act in such an overbearing manner?"

Elizabeth stared at Lady Worthington, her brow furrowed in concentration. The only thing she could think of was the man who had stared at her in such a disconcerting way at The Royal Menagerie. But Mr Darcy had said all was well, that the man was an acquaintance of her Uncle's. Had he lied? And why? If he was worried, why not tell her?

Lady Worthington watched the myriad of emotions pass over her young friend's face. She nodded knowingly. "Protective, my girl. You mark my words. It doesn't excuse his horrendous behavior; you were quite right to stand up to him. But I am sure he would not act in such a way without good reason."

Elizabeth numbly nodded her head. Lady Worthington had given her much to think on. They fell silent, each tending to several more infants. She cuddled a particularly fussy babe, holding it over her shoulder and rubbing its back, making soothing noises.

"You are quite a natural, my dear; little Thomas doesn't take to just anyone. You will make a wonderful mother," Lady Worthington said with longing. "I hope you don't keep your Mr Darcy waiting too long. After a proper amount of groveling, let him back into your good graces. I am sure he will be very _demonstrative _in his quest for forgiveness." Lady Worthington laughed as Elizabeth blushed. "That is another trait of the Darcy men, they are quite...passionate, in all their endeavors."

Elizabeth, desperate to change the subject asked, "Did you ever wish to adopt a child? With all these unwanted children desperate for homes, I would think more childless couples would do so."

Lady Worthington gave Elizabeth a measured look. "Yes, there are many who take a foundling and claim it as their own. But, amongst the _ton,_ it is always done in secret. Especially if the couple is well known and titled. There would be a big to do if an heir was discovered to be adopted."

"I see. And does it happen often?"

Lady Worthington smiled, secretively. "More often than you think."

Elizabeth waited for Lady Worthington to divulge more, but she remained silent. Elizabeth wondered if some of the secrets Lady Worthington possessed included couples of the _ton_ who were passing off a foundling child as their own. Elizabeth shook her head. It was incredible that such a kind woman held such power in her hands over the lives of so many.

**(1) sapscull: simple, foolish fellow**

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Time for Elizabeth passed quickly and before long, she was on her way home. Her mind reviewed all that Lady Worthington had told her about Mr Darcy. She wanted to believe it, desperately. But, what if Lady Worthington was wrong? She knew she could not live with a man bent on controlling her. She would not choose a husband who treated her as callously as her mother. It would break her heart and her spirit. Her heart whispered that Mr Darcy would not try to control her like her mother. But hadn't he already revealed his overbearing nature once? What if he did it again?

Jane gave Elizabeth a significant look as they made their way inside the house. Elizabeth sighed and nodded her head, resigned. Her brief reprieve was over, it was time to talk to her sister. Elizabeth followed her sister up to their shared sitting room. Elizabeth settled on the comfortable sofa, her stomach a bundle of nerves.

Jane sat across from her, smiling encouragingly at Elizabeth. "Now, Lizzy. Tell me what is going through that beautiful head of yours."

Elizabeth glanced at her sister briefly before looking away, sighing. She shrugged her shoulders. "You were there, you heard what happened, Jane. What do you think is going through my head?'

"Lizzy," Jane's quiet voice brought Elizabeth's gaze back to her sister. Gently, she said, "Mr Darcy is not like our mother."

Jane's words and compassionate gaze caused Elizabeth's eyes to well with tears, sliding silently down her cheeks. Angrily, she wiped them away. "This is ridiculous, I am done crying over that man!"

Moving to sit beside her sister, Jane clasped Elizabeth's hand, "It is not ridiculous, Lizzy. There is no shame in crying."

Elizabeth turned her tear stained face to Jane, bringing a clenched fist to her heart. In a broken voice, she cried, "It hurts, Jane. Why does it hurt so much?"

Jane embraced her sister as she said, softly, "Oh Lizzy, don't you know?"

Elizabeth shook her head against Jane's shoulder as she whispered, "No."

"Because you love him."

Elizabeth froze, pulling out of her sister's embrace to stare, wide eyed at Jane's sure expression. Her heat beat furiously at the realization that her sister was right. She didn't need time to know her own heart. She loved him; completely, ardently, irrevocably, foolishly, disastrously. Shaking her head she whispered, "Then, I'm a fool."

Jane's expression hardened. "You are not! Lizzy, don't project the negative emotions you feel about our mother onto Mr Darcy. You are being unfair."

Elizabeth stood, infuriated. "I am being unfair? Jane! You heard what he said! _I forbid it_." In a quieter voice, she said, "Just like mama."

"Yes, Lizzy. I heard what he said. But unlike you, I noted his expression as he was saying it." Jane stood to face her irate sister. "Do you know what I saw?"

Elizabeth shook her head, turning away from her sister. In a monotone voice, she replied, "What did you see, Jane?"

Jane grasped Elizabeth's arm, turning her around to face her. When Elizabeth's eyes met hers, she said, "Fear. I saw fear in his eyes, Lizzy. For some reason the idea of you going to the Foundling Hospital made him afraid. For you."

Elizabeth stared at Jane. She thought of all that Lady Worthington had told her about Mr Darcy. Protective. Considerate. Loyal. Attentive. Passionate. She had also said he was overbearing and proud. Did Mr Darcy's behavior stem from a need to control or to protect? Elizabeth rubbed her forehead. She couldn't make sense of it.

"Lizzy." Jane's quiet entreaty interrupted Elizabeth's confused thoughts. "Talk to me. What are you thinking?"

Elizabeth sighed, sitting on the sofa. "I don't know, Jane. It is all just a muddle."

Jane sat next to her sister. "Well, tell me. Maybe together, we can make sense of it all."

Elizabeth shared with Jane all that Lady Worthington had said earlier about Mr Darcy being just like his father.

"Do you believe her?" Jane asked.

Elizabeth looked down at her hands as she said quietly, "I don't know, Jane." She sighed, looking up to meet her sister's understanding gaze. "I don't know what to believe anymore."

"What does your heart tell you?"

Elizabeth was silent as she contemplated her sister's question. She _wanted_ to believe Lady Worthington, that Mr Darcy was acting out of a need to protect her. But why? Why not just come out and say it? She couldn't overlook the fact that his initial reaction was to command her to comply with his request. Blindly. Maybe some men liked their wives to be docile and obey with blind obedience. If that was Mr Darcy's expectation, he was in for a rude awakening.

Elizabeth stood and began pacing. "I refuse to give myself to a man who expects his every wish to be obeyed without question. I refuse to be controlled, Jane I have had enough of that from our mother. If he was acting out of fear, then why not tell me?"

"What would make him afraid for you, Lizzy? Did something happen that I don't know about?"

Elizabeth slowly nodded her head. "Yes. Something happened at the Royal Menagerie. Right before we left there was a man who was staring at me in a rather disconcerting and intense manner. It made me quite uncomfortable. Mr Darcy tried to confront the man, but he left."

Jane looked at her sister in alarm. "Who was it?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I don't know. Mr Darcy did not recognize him either." Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself. "The strange thing is, he looked at me like he knew me, or recognized me. But how can that be?"

Jane shrugged her shoulders, perplexed. "Maybe he thought you were our mother?"

Elizabeth stared at Jane. "I never even thought of that possibility."

Jane smiled sadly at her sister. "I am not surprised, Lizzy. You don't like to be reminded that you look so much like our mother."

"No more than she does." Elizabeth murmured under her breath.

Jane ignored her sister's remark and asked, "Could that incident be the cause of Mr Darcy's fear?"

"I don't think so. He talked to our Uncle to determine if he was an acquaintance of his. When he returned he said all was well." Elizabeth suddenly recalled Mr Darcy's behavior and demeanor after returning from talking with her Uncle. "Jane, I just remembered something."

"What did you remember?" Jane leaned forward eagerly.

"Mr Darcy was unusually subdued after returning from speaking with Uncle. I got the distinct impression he was keeping something from me."

Jane leaned back with a smile. "Well, there it is. He obviously found out something from our Uncle that caused him to become fearful. But what? Why would that man, thinking you were our mother, cause Mr Darcy distress?"

Elizabeth bit her lip. "I don't know, Jane. But all this could have been avoided if he had just told me, instead of hiding it from me."

"Or you could have asked him why he wished you to stay home," Jane suggested softly.

Elizabeth whirled to face her sister. "Are you accusing me, Jane? After how Mr Darcy acted, how could I remain in his presence?"

"No, Lizzy. I am not accusing you. But, if you would have stopped for a moment and asked, instead of acting in such a way, I am sure he would have explained himself. Indeed, after you left so...abruptly, he immediately asked to speak with you to explain. He was so remorseful, Lizzy."

"Then why did he not ask to see me when he visited Uncle this morning?" Elizabeth cried.

Jane looked at Elizabeth in surprise. "Mr Darcy was here? This morning?"

"Yes, I hid behind the curtain in that small alcove near Uncle's study. I heard Mr Darcy ask Simmons if I was at home. When Simmons asked if he wished to see me, he said no. Then he went and spoke to our Uncle." Elizabeth said dejectedly, "No doubt to put an end to our courtship since I am sure I don't meet his expectations of a proper wife."

"Stop it, Lizzy. He did no such thing. Don't make assumptions based on your own insecurities." Jane reached for her sister's hand, squeezing it tightly. "Lizzy, you are allowed to be hurt and angry. His behavior was inexcusable no matter his intentions for doing so. But, don't harden your heart against him, Lizzy. He has faults, he is imperfect, but he is perfect for you. He loves you and you love him. Don't let your fear cloud your judgment."

Elizabeth squeezed Jane's hand, giving her a small smile. "Yesterday, I was convinced that it was over between us, that I would be alone. That our mother was right." Elizabeth stopped to compose herself, taking a deep breath. "And it hurt, Jane. The pain was unbearable. I had allowed myself to believe that Mr Darcy was different, that he truly..." Elizabeth stopped to wipe tears from her face. "That he truly cared for me. I had lost all hope." Elizabeth met her sister's compassionate gaze. "I don't know what will happen between us." Elizabeth looked down, before meeting her sister's gaze, her eyes filled with anguish. "He hasn't tried to see me, Jane. If he truly cared, why didn't he want to see me this morning?"

Jane gazed at her distraught sister. Slowly, she said, "Perhaps, he wanted to give you time. Maybe he knew you would not be open to hearing his explanation so soon."

Elizabeth nodded, her heart filling with a tentative hope. Smiling sadly at her sister, she asked, "Do you think there will come a time when I don't constantly question Mr Darcy's intentions and regard for me?"

Jane stood to embrace her sister. "Yes, Lizzy, I do. Perhaps, when you can freely admit to yourself that you love him, without reservation," Jane leaned back to gaze at her dearest friend, "and without fear."

Elizabeth smiled at her sister, pulling her into a fierce embrace. "What would I do without you, Jane?"

Jane laughed, "You'll never have to find out, Lizzy. You'll never get rid of me."

Elizabeth raised a brow. "Oh no? Not even when you marry and start a family of your own?"

Jane paled slightly, pulling away from her sister. Quietly, she said, "I doubt that will happen."

"Now who is being ridiculous, Jane! Never marry indeed. What about our dear Colonel Fitzwilliam? He has shown you rather marked attentions lately. Don't tell me there is nothing there, Jane. For I will know that you are lying."

Jane took a deep breath and opened her mouth to respond when a knock was heard. Jane breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "Come in."

Elizabeth gave her sister a look that clearly indicated their conversation was not over.

Sarah opened the door and curtsying, she said, "Beg your pardon. But the Master wishes to see you, Miss Lizzy. He is waiting for you in his study."

"Thank you, Sarah. Tell my Uncle I will be right there." What could he want with her? Was he going to inform her that her courtship with Mr Darcy was at an end? Elizabeth's heart constricted painfully at the thought. No! she was not going to assume the worst.

As she left, she turned to her sister. "This conversation is not over, Jane. You may have been saved by the timely interruption of Sarah, but I will find out what is going on."

"There is nothing to tell, Lizzy."

Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief. "I don't believe that for one moment. And neither do you. Now, who is afraid?"

"I am not afraid, Lizzy. I am being realistic," Jane said with a sigh. Shooing her sister, she said with a laugh, "Now, don't keep our Uncle waiting."

Elizabeth turned to go. "Very well, Jane. But I will get my answers." Elizabeth left her sister to her thoughts as she made her way to her Uncle's study, with a slight feeling of anxiety.

A/N: So, now you understand why poor Elizabeth reacted the way she did. Lady W gave her much to think about and you gotta love a supportive and understanding sister.

Please review to get a preview!

Much love! MAH


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 21

Elizabeth paused outside her Uncle's study, taking a deep breath before knocking firmly, ignoring a feeling of foreboding. Her hand had barely left the door, when it was opened by her Aunt. Elizabeth realized with shock that her Aunt had been crying, her eyes red and filled with unease and sadness.

"Why, Aunt! Whatever is the matter?" Elizabeth cried, astonished. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen her Aunt cry. Something must be terribly wrong.

"Come in, Lizzy and all will be explained. I confess I am having a hard time making sense of it all."

Mr Gardiner stood as she entered. "Come in, Lizzy." His tone was grave, his expression guarded.

Elizabeth felt her chest constrict with anxiety. "Please, tell me quickly. Did something befall my family?" Elizabeth immediately discarded that idea, as Jane would have been summoned as well. Another, more agonizing possibility entered her mind and she gasped, "Is it Mr Darcy? Is he well?"

Mr Gardiner held up a hand. "Yes, yes, he is fine. Everyone is fine, Lizzy. Please be calm," he said soothingly.

Elizabeth sat on the sofa, clasping her hands together, her posture rigid. Despite her Uncle's soothing words, his expression was anxious. He also appeared nervous, which confused her. Why would her Uncle be nervous? She waited impatiently as her Aunt and Uncle took a seat.

Mr Gardiner smiled gravely at Elizabeth, taking her hand. "Lizzy, I need you to listen very carefully to what I have to say."

Elizabeth stared at her Uncle in confusion. "Of course. Nothing could be worse than what my mind is imagining at this moment."

Mr Gardiner took a deep breath, before saying, "What I have to say concerns the man you saw yesterday at The Royal Menagerie. Do you know who I am talking about?"

Elizabeth nodded her head wordlessly.

"I believe him to be a man of my acquaintance from many years ago. His name is John Williamson." Mr Gardiner paused, looking at Elizabeth with raised brows. "Have you ever heard that name before?"

Elizabeth shook her head, her brow furrowed in confusion. "No, should I have?"

Mr Gardiner sighed. "No, I suppose his name would not be spoken in your home." He said, rubbing his eyes, "He was once a clerk employed by my father. After he died, and Mr Phillips took over his practice, Mr Williamson left. He moved to Scotland, where I believed him to be until Mr Darcy made me aware of his possible presence in London."

Elizabeth looked at her Uncle in bewilderment. "Yes, Mr Darcy told me that this man was an acquaintance of yours. But, I don't understand. Why are you telling me about this man? Mr Darcy said that all was well, that I didn't need to worry."

Mr Gardiner grimaced. "Yes, because I told him to say that. I didn't want to believe that Mr Williamson was a threat, but upon further reflection I think Mr Darcy is right to take precautions until we can eliminate that possibility."

"What threat? What precautions are you talking about, Uncle?" Elizabeth looked at her Uncle in growing dismay.

"Lizzy, be calm. All will be well. Mr Darcy has seen to that," Mrs Gardiner said soothingly, clasping her nieces hand.

"Lizzy, I will not go into details, they are not important. But you need to know that Mr Williamson may hold a grudge against me due to a wrong I committed against him many years ago. He may be back in London to exact revenge."

Elizabeth stared at her Uncle with wide eyes. "What wrong are you talking about?"

Mr and Mrs Gardiner exchanged a weighted look. "Edward," Mrs Gardiner said, firmly. "I think it would be best to tell her."

Elizabeth looked back and forth between her Aunt and Uncle, her brow furrowed in bewilderment. Her Aunt was obviously distressed and she couldn't recall ever seeing such a grave expression on her Uncle's face before. Elizabeth turned to her Aunt and pleaded, "Aunt, please tell me what this is all about. Does this have to do with why you are so upset?"

Mrs Gardiner turned away from her husband and answered, "Yes, in part. Your Uncle told me more details about Mr Williamson's history that I was unaware of and it upset me, but I will be well."

Before Mrs Gardiner could say anymore, Mr Gardiner held up a hand, shaking his head. Mrs Gardiner closed her mouth, her expression displeased.

"What I did is not important, Lizzy," Mr Gardiner said determinedly. "Our main concern right now is to locate, Mr Williamson as soon as possible."

"But why do you and Mr Darcy think this man is a threat to me? I have never met him!" Elizabeth stood and began pacing in agitation. This was all too fantastical, like something one read in a novel. The fact that her Uncle was obviously keeping information from her made her uneasy and angry. Her Uncle obviously felt guilt for the wrong he had committed, but why keep it from her, especially if this man meant to harm her?

Mr Gardiner responded, "Precautions have been taken to ensure your safety until Mr Williamson is found and his intentions become known."

Warily, Elizabeth asked, "What precautions are you talking about?"

Mr Gardiner pursed his lips, considering. "Hired men to keep you safe."

Elizabeth gasped, exclaiming, "What? You hired men to follow me? spy on me?"

"Mr Darcy hired them, Lizzy. When he realized that you were in potential danger there was nothing I could say to stop him."

Elizabeth took a deep breath to compose herself. She didn't know whether to be incensed at Mr Darcy's presumption or gratified at his obvious desire to protect her. Apparently, Lady Worthington was correct. _Protective, indeed._ She felt her heart soften towards Mr Darcy at his obvious concern for her safety.

Elizabeth realized with sudden clarity that this explained why Mr Darcy visited her Uncle this morning, likely to make arrangements. She shook her head. She had thought the worse of him. Again. And this clearly explained his officious behavior yesterday. Although she wished he would have been forthright with her, she couldn't fault his intentions.

Elizabeth turned to her Uncle with a resolute expression on her face. She wanted, no she needed answers. Her Uncle was being deliberately evasive. "You still haven't told me Mr Williamson's connection to me. Why would he wish to harm me?"

Mrs Gardiner looked at her husband again. Quietly, she said, "Edward, we must tell her something. Please."

Mr Gardiner sighed, rubbing his head, his expression resigned. "I am not sure he does wish you harm, my dear, or anyone." Mr Gardiner gave a pointed look at his wife, picking up her hand to kiss it lovingly.

Elizabeth's brow wrinkled in concentration. Remembering what Jane had deduced earlier, she asked, "Does this have anything to do with my strong resemblance to my mother? Because Mr Williamson thought he was seeing her?"

Mr Gardiner sighed, glancing at his wife. "Yes, my dear, it does."

"What connection does Mr Williamson have to my mother?" Elizabeth asked with a puzzled expression.

"Ah, my dear. That is not important."

"But..." protested Elizabeth.

Mr Gardiner held up his hand. "No, Elizabeth. It is best that some things remain in the past."

Seeing Elizabeth's confusion and dismay, Mrs Gardiner rose and went to her niece. Turning to her husband, she said, "Edward, she has a right to know. I think you've kept silent long enough."

Mr Gardiner looked at his wife, nodding slightly at her silent plea. "Lizzy, my dear. I will tell you the entirety of my families connection to John Williamson _after_ we have found him. Right now, Darcy, Col Fitzwilliam and myself are doing everything in our power to locate him and ensure your safety."

Mrs Gardiner said, resolutely, "And if he doesn't tell you, I will."

Elizabeth sighed, resigned. "I understand, Uncle." Hesitantly, she asked, "Have you told Mr Darcy?"

Mr Gardiner shook his head, "No. I have told him what he needs to know. No more."

_Like me._ Elizabeth sighed, dissatisfied with her Uncle's secretiveness. Her mind was whirling with so many questions. What was John Williamson's connection to her Uncle, and more importantly to her mother? What did it have to do with her? There were too many unanswered questions. But she knew one thing for certain, Mr Darcy cared for her; his protectiveness and concern for her safety confirmed it.

Quietly, Elizabeth said, "I see now why Mr Darcy acted the way he did yesterday. Thank you for telling me."

"He didn't mention this yesterday, at my request. I felt that there was no reason to alarm or worry you. But after what occurred between you yesterday, he told me to tell you or he would."

Elizabeth smiled. Yes, that sounded like her Mr Darcy. As Elizabeth realized what she had thought, she blushed. _Her_ Mr Darcy. Yes, she liked the sound of that.

Mr and Mrs Gardiner exchanged amused glances at their nieces inattentive behavior. Mrs Gardiner winked at her husband. Although, she didn't agree with her husband's decision to withhold information about John Williamson, she was grateful Elizabeth knew about the potential threat. Now she could reconcile with Mr Darcy and put this misunderstanding behind them.

Mrs Gardiner gave Elizabeth a fierce hug, whispering, "Mr Darcy is a good man, Lizzy. He did this for you, to ensure your safety. Don't take it lightly."

Elizabeth nodded her head. "Yes, I know."

Mrs Gardiner pulled back from her embrace to look Elizabeth in the eye, pointing a finger, she said, "Make sure he grovels sufficiently before you forgive him. Despite his good intentions, it in no way excuses his highhanded behavior."

Elizabeth smiled. "I will, Aunt."

A knock sounded at the door, and Simmons entered, saying, "Pardon the intrusion but there is a delivery for Miss Elizabeth. The messenger is waiting for a response."

Mr Gardiner raised his brows, "Indeed? Well better bring it in, Simmons."

"Very good, sir." Simmons left, returning momentarily. He was followed by a man carrying a large vase of flowers.

Elizabeth gasped, "Oh, how beautiful!" She went over for a closer look after the messenger placed them on a table. There were at least two dozen white tulips, with a single red tulip (1) in the middle. Blushing furiously, Elizabeth lightly fingered the red tulip.

"Well, Mr Darcy certainly isn't subtle, is he, Lizzy?" Mrs Gardiner said coming to stand next to her niece with a satisfied smile.

The messenger said, "I have a note for Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

Elizabeth turned and in a daze, said, "I am she." Taking the note from the messenger, she opened it with trembling fingers.

_Miss Elizabeth, I humbly request an audience with you tomorrow. I eagerly await your reply.__Your servant, FD_

Elizabeth could not contain a brilliant smile from suffusing her face. She felt so much at this moment; relief, happiness, regret...love. She lightly ran her fingers across Mr Darcy's impeccable penmanship, her fingers lingering over his initials. She silently chastised herself for her inconstant and ungenerous thoughts regarding Mr Darcy. Jane was right, Mr Darcy was not like her mother. Whereas her mother's behavior stemmed from a desire to repress and control her, she now understood that Mr Darcy's behavior stemmed from his desire to protect and care for her . He had behaved badly, but so had she. Elizabeth realized with sudden understanding that they had both overreacted out of fear. She smiled. Perhaps there was hope for them after all, if they could work past their fears, together.

Mrs Gardiner cleared her throat to gain Elizabeth's attention. "Lizzy, do you have a reply for the messenger?"

"Oh! Yes, of course. Forgive me." Elizabeth walked to her Uncle's desk and quickly penned a reply.

Smiling, Elizabeth handed the note to the messenger. After he left, Elizabeth turned to her Aunt and Uncle, who both wore very satisfied expressions. Elizabeth raised a brow, "Yes?"

Mr Gardiner nodded, approvingly. "White tulips. Very appropriate, I think. Mr Darcy knows what he is about."

"And the red tulip, Edward? What do you think about that? " Mrs Gardiner asked her husband with an affectionate look.

To Elizabeth's astonishment, her Uncle flushed red, causing her to say, teasingly, "Why Uncle, you are blushing."

Mr Gardiner grumbled, "I am not."

Mrs Gardiner laughed delightedly. "He is, Lizzy. And for very good reason." At her niece's curious expression, she smiled. "Let's just say one of us gave the other a red tulip a long time ago, and it made all the difference in the world. Didn't it, Edward?"

Mr Gardiner smiled and winked at his wife. "It certainly did, my dear."

Elizabeth sighed happily as she left the room, carrying Mr Darcy's flowers carefully in her arms.

**(1) A white tulip symbolizes forgiveness.****They denote a new beginning and giving someone white tulips tells them you wish for them to forgive you and you want a fresh start; you want your relationship to be pure and seen as worthy, with any mistakes in the past forgiven and forgotten.**

**A red tulip is a declaration of love.****It also symbolizes perfect love, eternal love, enduring love****(Awww, *sigh*)**

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Darcy paced in the foyer of his townhouse, waiting impatiently for the messenger to return from Gardiners with Elizabeth's response. What if she didn't want to see him or refused his gift? He stopped pacing, running his hands through his disheveled hair. He would not blame her if she did. He deserved her censure after treating her so disrespectfully. Why had he listened to Gardiner? He should have told her everything right away. He didn't want to keep things from her. His natural inclination was to be taciturn and uncommunicative; it had always been difficult for him to share his innermost thoughts and feelings. But with Elizabeth, he knew it was different. He wanted to share his feelings with her; he trusted her, implicitly. He just hoped the fragile trust they had built between them had not been permanently damaged by his thoughtless actions. He prayed for the opportunity to make amends and begin anew. He would settle for nothing less.

Richard approached, saying, "Darcy, you're frightening the servants with all this pacing and groaning. Come and join Georgiana and I in the music room."

Darcy, ignoring his cousins remark, asked quietly, "What if she doesn't want to see me, Richard?"

Richard rolled his eyes. "Of course she will, Darcy. Miss Elizabeth is a rational woman. After her tears are spent, she will come to see that you are not a proud, overbearing imbecile determined to bend her to your will."

Darcy looked at his cousin with anguish. "How could I have treated her so, Richard? What was I thinking?"

Richard smiled, stating, "You love her, Darcy. Men in love have been known to act foolishly and irrationally." Wryly, he added, "It's really quite amazing people marry at all."

Darcy looked at Richard and admitted what he already knew to be true. "I do, Richard," he stated with conviction. "I love Elizabeth, desperately; she consumes me. She is in my every thought. Her happiness and well being are always foremost in my mind." Pausing to run his hands through his hair, he turned and exclaimed, "And despite all I feel for her, I still treated her as if she were no more than a possession to order around at my whim!"

Richard leaned in and said, quietly, "Darcy, I hardly think this is the place for you to bear your soul. Your servants are discreet, but I don't think you want them privy to your inner turmoil."

Darcy groaned, running his hands through his hair. "You're right. Let's join Georgiana. She has been ignoring me since yesterday," Darcy said despondently.

"Of course she is. She was appalled by your behavior towards Miss Elizabeth. And might I remind you that you have given her no assurances that things will be well between the two of you. Georgiana is probably under the impression that she has lost a sister, permanently."

"Well, then I will reassure her." Darcy said decisively, walking to the music room with a quick and determined stride.

Georgiana was playing the pianoforte as Darcy entered with Richard. She did not cease her playing, but frowned, her expression displeased. He sighed, coming to stand beside her. "I am sorry for worrying you, Georgiana."

Georgiana ceased playing and said, angrily, "I am not the one you need to apologize to, brother."

"I know, and hopefully I will have an opportunity to throw myself at the mercy of Elizabeth tomorrow, but you need to know that all will be well. I made a mistake and I will do what is needed to correct it. I already sent a message to her, declaring my intentions."

Georgiana, forgetting that she was angry with her brother, asked animatedly, "What message, brother?"

Darcy smiled, relieved at her change in attitude. "Never you mind. But I hope it will let her know that I am not giving up. I expect her reply shortly."

"Oh, she will forgive you, brother. She has to!" Georgiana cried with feeling. "I will have her for my sister, Fitzwilliam." With a pointed look she said, "Make it happen."

Darcy laughed. "I will, I promise."

Georgiana smiled contentedly. "Well, then I forgive you." Reaching up, she pulled her brother next to her and said, in a commanding tone, "Now, let's practice our duet. There is nothing more romantic than a man who is musical. It will melt Lizzy's heart."

Richard laughed, coming to stand next to the pianoforte. "I don't know about that. I have always thought music was the purview of women."

"That proves how little you know, cousin." Darcy said authoritatively. "The Bard says that music is the food of love (2). And I, believe it, wholeheartedly."

"So there." Georgiana said with mock haughtiness, her nose in the air, causing her cousin and brother to laugh.

"You mean to tell me, Richard that the object of your affection would not enjoy a love song sung by you?" Darcy asked with raised brows.

Richard snorted. "From me? I have not a single musical bone in my body. My caterwauling would drive her away, not recommend myself to her."

"Pity. I guess you are doomed to remain a bachelor." Georgiana said offhandedly as she began to play.

Richard's lighthearted expression turned solemn and he turned away before his young cousin could see the effect her innocent statement had on his mind and heart.

Darcy frowned as he gazed at his cousin's somber expression. He suspected Richard was having doubts about pursuing Miss Bennet. He knew his heart was engaged, but he was still afraid of asking Miss Bennet to wait for him.

The door to the music room opened and Fletcher entered bearing a missive on a silver tray. Darcy leapt to his feet before Fletcher passed the threshold, snatching the note from the tray, with a hurried, "Thank you, Fletcher." Darcy ignored the brief look of shock that passed over Fletcher's face before it was replaced with his normal composed expression.

"Will be there be anything you require, sir?" Fletcher asked.

As Darcy was occupied, Richard replied, "That will be all, Fletcher. Thank you."

Darcy was oblivious to everyone and everything in the room. He tore open the note, reading the brief message once, twice to make sure he did not mistake her meaning.

_Mr Darcy, I would be pleased to receive you at one o'clock tomorrow. __EB_

Darcy sighed, a wide smile infusing his face. There was hope. She would give him an opportunity to apologize. And he would make use of it; on his knees if necessary.

"Judging by the silly grin on your face, I am assuming that you received a favorable reply from your lady love?" Richard asked with a wide smile.

Darcy nodded with satisfaction. "Yes, she will see me tomorrow at one."

Georgiana squealed and began playing a lively dance tune, her joy matching the relief Darcy felt. _All will be well._

**(2) From Twelfth Night, Act 1, Scene 1**

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"Lizzy, stop that. You're making me nervous." Jane lightly admonished her sister who was pacing the length of the Drawing room, biting her lip nervously.

Elizabeth sat, her posture stiff before leaping to her feet to pace anew. "I am sorry, Jane. Do you ever feel that your emotions are too big to be contained? I can't sit still. At this moment, it is an impossibility."

Jane sighed, putting down her embroidery. "Well, then why don't you venture outside?" She suggested, helpfully. "I am sure the fresh air will clear your head."

Elizabeth stopped pacing and looked at her sister, suspiciously. "If I didn't know any better, I would say you are trying to get rid of me."

Jane laughed. "Of course not, but I admit your constant movement is a little distracting."

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. "Well, in that case maybe I will venture outside. After the near constant rain the last few days, the sunshine is a blessed relief." Elizabeth turned to leave as her Aunt entered.

"Leaving Lizzy?" Mrs Gardiner inquired with a smile. "I would think you would want to wait for Mr Darcy. He will be here shortly."

"That's the problem, Aunt. Lizzy is an emotional mess, waiting for Mr Darcy. I suggested that she get some fresh air." Jane smiled mischievously. "Besides, we can simply send Mr Darcy out to the garden. It would save you the trouble of trying to have a private conversation with others nearby."

Elizabeth laughed. "Very well. I can take a hint."

Simmons entered, uncharacteristically flustered. "Forgive me, Miss Elizabeth, but I just discovered this letter. I don't know why it was not delivered to you yesterday. It must have escaped my notice."

Mrs Gardiner smiled, "It is no matter, Simmons. Thank you for bringing it."

Elizabeth accepted the missive from Simmons. Turning to her Aunt and Jane she said with a laugh, "I suspect it is from papa or perhaps..." upon seeing who the letter was from, Elizabeth's face drained of color.

"Lizzy, what is it?" Jane said with concern, coming to stand beside her sister. Seeing the familiar handwriting, she attempted to snatch it from her sister. She pleaded, "Lizzy, don't! Don't read it. You know mama can have nothing to say worth reading."

Mrs Gardiner echoed her nieces sentiments. "Listen to Jane, Lizzy. Don't read it. You are so happy right now. Mr Darcy will be here soon, just wait. Please."

Elizabeth stared at the letter. She could not remember a time when her mother had written to her. In all the years she had visited her Aunt and Uncle, she had never received so much as a single line from her. Not once. What could she possibly have to say? She had written her mother last Sunday to ask again for forgiveness for her impertinent remark before coming to London. She didn't expect a reply, but she felt she needed to do it to have a clear conscience. Could it be possible that her mother had forgiven her? Elizabeth's curiosity won out. Hastily excusing herself, she headed to the garden, ignoring the fervent pleas of her Aunt and sister.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Darcy entered Gardiners Townhouse filled with anticipation and a touch of anxiety. He handed his hat and gloves to Simmons before following him to the Drawing room where his Elizabeth was waiting. He tugged on his coat nervously, and fingered his cravat. He had taken especial care with his appearance today. He was not a man that was overly concerned with his appearance, he left that in the capable hands of his valet. But today, he had been rather demanding of Stevenson in his quest for perfection.

Simmons announced him and he entered the Drawing room, eager to see Elizabeth. It had been too long since he had gazed upon her beautiful face. Scanning the room, he immediately realized that Elizabeth was not present. His heart dropped. Had she changed her mind?

Mrs Gardiner came forward and greeted Darcy. Despite her warm words of welcome, her eyes were worried, her countenance tense. His anxiety grew. What was wrong?

His mask firmly in place, he asked, "Is Miss Elizabeth not receiving callers today, Mrs Gardiner?"

"No, that is, yes. Yes, of course. That is, she is in the garden, Mr Darcy." Mrs Gardiner wrung her hands, her expression nervous. She would not meet his eyes.

Darcy's heart froze. She didn't want to see him. All his anticipation and joy at being reunited with Elizabeth turned to dust. He would have to wait, try again. But how could he explain himself and apologize if he couldn't see her?

With a heavy heart, he said, "I understand, Mrs Gardiner. Please give Miss Elizabeth my best. I will see myself out. Good day." Darcy turned to go and was astounded when Mrs Gardiner grabbed his arm to prevent him leaving.

"No, Mr Darcy, wait. Please. You misunderstand. Lizzy has been anticipating your visit. It's just that something happened right before you arrived and I feel that she may not be in the right state of mind to receive you with equanimity."

Darcy looked at Mrs Gardiner, his guarded expression changing to one of concern. "What happened? Is she well? Did..." he lowered his voice to a whisper. "Does it have to do with Mr Williamson?"

Mrs Gardiner shook her head. "No, Lizzy took that information quite well, Mr Darcy. In fact, I think it relieved her mind quite a bit." Mrs Gardiner gave Darcy a knowing look.

Darcy sighed, grateful that Gardiner had told her. "Then what has caused her to become distressed, Mrs Gardiner?"

"She received a letter from home, Mr Darcy." Jane said quietly from her place on the sofa.

A letter from home? Darcy didn't understand why that would upset Elizabeth unless...his eyes widened in sudden realization. "From her mother," he spat in disgust. It could be from no one else. He had to see her, now. "She is in the garden?" Darcy asked, moving to the door. He didn't wait for Mrs Gardiners reply before hastily making his way to Elizabeth.

Mrs Gardiner stared at Mr Darcy's retreating back. He knew. He knew about Elizabeth's mother. But how? She was sure that Elizabeth had not had a chance to say anything to him yet. He must have heard it from her husband. She breathed a silent prayer, thanking God for sending this man to her dear niece.

Darcy strode towards the garden with a single purpose, ensure that Elizabeth was well and offer whatever comfort he could. He prayed he would have the words to relieve her pain. He exited the house, his feet automatically leading him to the oak tree at the back of the garden, knowing he would find her there.

He slowed his steps as he neared the tree, not wishing to alarm her with his sudden presence. As the path turned, he stopped abruptly at the heartbreaking sight before him. She was sitting on the bench, her arms wrapped around her torso, a crumbled letter clutched in her hand. Her expression was desolate, her posture dejected. She looked so vulnerable, so young. Too young to carry such a burden. As he watched, a single tear made its way down her cheek.

He could stay away no longer. As he approached, she looked up and saw him, her eyes widening in surprise. She straightened, hastily wiping away the remnants of her tears.

"Mr Darcy," Elizabeth said in a tremulous voice. She attempted a smile. "It is good to see you," she said softly.

Darcy sat next to her, taking her free hand in his. He stared at their joined hands for a moment before raising his eyes to meet hers. She valiantly tried to hide her distress, but he saw her suffering.

Remorsefully, Darcy said, "Elizabeth, it pains me to see you in such distress. And to know that I am the one who caused such pain fills me shame and regret. I know not what I can do to make amends, but ask anything of me and I will do all in my power to see it fulfilled."

Elizabeth gazed at the man before her, his eyes filled with remorse and self-loathing. "Mr Darcy, I will not deny that your words pained me." She looked down and in a voice so quiet it was almost inaudible, said, "more than you know." She took a deep breath and raised her head, her eyes searching his face, so dear, so loved. "I understand now why you acted the way you did. Although, I wish you had explained to me what was going on rather than speak to me in such a way, your intentions were pure. I must apologize to you as well, I..."

Darcy placed his finger against her lips. "No, Elizabeth. You have nothing to apologize for. I am to blame. Your actions were justified in light of my despicable behavior."

Elizabeth arched a brow and said, "You go back on your word so quickly, sir?" At Mr Darcy's surprised expression, she explained, "you told me to ask anything of you and you would see it done. Well, Mr Darcy, I ask that you allow me to tell you how sorry I am."

Darcy smiled, guiltily. "Forgive me, Elizabeth. I see I shall have ample opportunity to practice apologizing to you in the future."

Elizabeth blushed, and looking down said softly, "Our actions were motivated by fear, Mr Darcy. You acted out of fear for my safety and I..." Elizabeth clutched the letter from her mother in her hand more tightly, her throat constricting, "I was afraid that you sought to control me...as others have done."

Darcy stared at Elizabeth, and said, adamantly, "No, never. I would never try to control you, Elizabeth. I admire your independent nature." Darcy placed a finger under her chin, raising her head to meet his eyes. "You are perfect, just the way you are."

Elizabeth felt her eyes fill with tears and she looked away. No, she was far from perfect. She had the proof of it in her hand.

"Elizabeth?" Darcy asked, concerned. "What is it?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I am not perfect, Mr Darcy."

"For me, you are." Darcy said earnestly.

Elizabeth stared at Mr Darcy, her heart pounding from nervousness and fear. What would he say if she told him? Would he walk away? Despise her? Shun her? She took a deep breath, staring at the letter she grasped in her hand. Reluctantly, she removed her hand from Mr Darcy's to smooth the crumpled letter in her lap.

Darcy looked at the letter, his eyes narrowing in barely concealed anger. How he wished he had been able to prevent her from reading it. He could not imagine what horrible things that woman had to write to his Elizabeth. With a calmness he didn't feel, he asked, "Is that a letter from home?"

Wordlessly, Elizabeth nodded her head. She looked at Mr Darcy for a moment, gathering her courage for what she knew she needed to do. Trust. She had to trust him. Taking a deep breath, she held out the letter to Mr Darcy with shaking hands.

Darcy stared at the letter Elizabeth held in her small, trembling hands. Raising his eyes to search hers, he saw her fear but also resolve and determination. Without breaking eye contact, he took the letter in his hands. She closed her eyes as soon as it left her hand, letting out a loud exhale. Darcy reached over and squeezing her hand, asked, "You wish for me to read this?" He wanted her to confide in him so he could dispel the fear and uncertainty she felt.

"Yes," Elizabeth whispered. "Please."

Darcy nodded his head and taking a deep breath, began to read.

_Lizzy,_

_I don't know what you mean by writing me.__If I wanted to hear from you, I would have asked for your correspondence.__As for accepting your apology, I don't see why I should.__I suppose you are trying to be a dutiful daughter, but it is far too little, too late.__We both know that you are an ungrateful, obstinate, headstrong girl who cares for nothing and no one but herself.__What you do to my__poor nerves!__If you did care, you would have insisted that my dear Lydia__take your place in London.__She is a deserving daughter, whereas, you most definitely, are not._

_But as you have written me, I feel it incumbent upon me to tell you to not make a fool of yourself.__You will never capture the interest of any man, let alone a man of any consequence. Your time in London__is a complete waste, I am sure.__But, I suppose you serve a purpose; Jane appears so much lovelier and desirable compared to your plainness and outspoken, hoydenish ways.__I am sure men are falling all over my dear Jane.__Be sure to stay out of the way, Lizzy.__If I hear that you have scared off Jane's suitors, I can't be responsible for what I may do!_

_As for you, my dear Lizzy, as you have nothing to recommend yourself, it is better that you steer clear of men altogether.__As I am sure the only men you could attract would be liars and deceivers; it is better for you to remain alone.__They will only disappoint and leave you in the end.__Now, that I think about it, I think it best that you just come home.__I will insist that Mr B retrieve you and take Lydia__instead.__My Lydia__has been so despondent and I really don't like to see her so out of sorts.__And it is all your fault, Lizzy! Your selfishness has put this entire house in an uproar!__Think of others for once, and come home, Lizzy, __I insist upon it!_

_Your longsuffering, Mama_

_Lizzy, _

_You are to remain in London.__Enjoy yourself, my dear. Your loving, Papa._

As Darcy read the words, even he could not have imagined the vitriol her mother poured from her poisonous pen. By the end, his hand was shaking with so much repressed anger he felt he would explode. He stood, breathing heavily, trying to regain control over his raging emotions, not wanting to frighten Elizabeth.

Elizabeth watched Mr Darcy's face as he read her mother's letter. It was done. He would know by her own mother's admission that she was unfit to be a wife, unworthy of any man's esteem, especially not one of Mr Darcy's consequence. She watched with an aching heart as he took in her mother's words, seeing his barely controlled revulsion. At her. She closed her eyes, unable to see the look of rejection on his face at the truth. She felt him stand in order to get away from her and her heart broke. Silent tears slid down her cheeks, and she stood, turning away from him as she wrapped her arms around herself, not wanting him to witness her tears.

Darcy looked at Elizabeth, her back to him. He could tell that she was crying and his heart ached that she had to endure such sentiments from a person who should have loved, supported and cared for her. He stepped towards her and saw her stiffen at his approach.

In a broken voice, Elizabeth said, "You may go now, Mr Darcy. There is no need for you to say anything, I understand."

Darcy realized with sadness that she thought he was rejecting her. _Oh Elizabeth_. With deliberate movements, he tore the letter once, twice. The sound caused Elizabeth to turn to face him, shock evident on her face. He ripped the letter until no words were recognizable, banishing the acerbic words to the elements. He wished he could burn them, burn the words from his mind and more importantly, burn them from his Elizabeth's heart.

He stared at the pieces of the letter scattered on the ground for a moment before raising his eyes to meet Elizabeth's. She was staring at him, her eyes wide with incredulity and hope. Quickly, he moved to stand before her, gently grasping her shoulders. Gazing into her eyes, he showed her all that he felt in his heart.

Elizabeth sucked in a sharp breath at what she saw in Mr Darcy's gaze. Acceptance. Admiration. _Love_. She could not contain her emotions and she cried tears of relief and joy. Pulling her into his embrace, Mr Darcy encircled her in his strong arms, and in that moment, Elizabeth was _home._ This was where she belonged. Listening to his steady heartbeat, enclosed in his arms she had never felt so loved, protected and safe. Elizabeth clung to him as she wept, letting out all the sorrow and anger she felt towards her mother.

Darcy held Elizabeth close to his heart, resting his chin on top of her head. A perfect fit. He gently pressed a soft kiss on her head, running his hands down her back, drawing her closer. Quietly, he said, "Did you really think I would believe a single word that woman wrote? Even if I had heard her opinion before meeting you, I would have disbelieved them as soon as I met you. You are all that is beautiful, kind and good, Elizabeth."

Darcy pulled away so he could see Elizabeth's face. Gently cupping her face, he wiped away her tears with his thumbs before resting his hands again on her shoulders. In a fierce, possessive voice he said, "I will never leave you, Elizabeth. Never." He ran a finger down her cheek, "Do you believe me?"

Elizabeth nodded her head, too overcome to speak. How could she have doubted this man? She should have trusted her heart. Shakily, she said, "Forgive me, Mr Darcy for doubting you. I was so afraid that I would lose your regard if you knew."

Darcy ran his hands down Elizabeth's arms, interlacing his fingers with hers. "Never. There is nothing that could make me lose my regard for you, Elizabeth." With a wry smile, he said, "I am afraid you are stuck with me."

Elizabeth smiled, taking a deep breath, to calm her racing heart. She felt light, free, unburdened. Mr Darcy knew what her mother thought of her and he didn't care. She felt so relieved that she laughed.

Darcy smiled, raising his brows at Elizabeth's bright laughter, her eyes filled with joy. He felt more connected to her at this moment than ever before. He squeezed her hands, unable to express in words all he felt in his heart.

A sudden strong breeze rustled the leaves of the oak tree spread out above them. A sudden idea came into his head and before he could second guess his decision, he pulled Elizabeth towards the bench.

"What are you doing, Mr Darcy?" Elizabeth inquired with a laugh.

Darcy quickly stood on the bench, smiling at Elizabeth's shocked expression. "I believe I promised to one day climb a tree with you, Elizabeth," he said, holding out his hand to her.

With a pleased smile, Elizabeth took Mr Darcy's hand, allowing him to pull her up beside him. Teasingly, she asked, "Aren't you afraid you'll fall, Mr Darcy?"

Darcy stared into Elizabeth's sparkling eyes, so beautiful, so close. With a soft smile, he touched her check, his finger briefly caressing her lips as he leaned towards her and in a low, intimate voice, said, "I believe I already have."

Elizabeth's breath caught at Mr Darcy's light touch and words. Her gaze traveled to his lips and unconsciously she licked hers. What would it be like to kiss him? Biting her lip, she raised her eyes to meet his amused and knowing gaze. Blushing at her improper thoughts, she looked away and said, breathlessly, "I believe it would be prudent for you to climb first, Mr Darcy."

Wordlessly, Darcy reached above him, pulling himself up to the lowest limb, finding his balance before commencing his climb. He quickly made his way to the top of the tree. Looking down, he saw Elizabeth gazing up at him with surprise and wonder on her face.

"You continue to surprise me, Mr Darcy. This is a sight I never thought I'd see."

Darcy laughed. "So little faith in me, Elizabeth?" He clutched his heart, "I am hurt." Removing his hand from the tree caused him to lose his balance and he flailed briefly before grasping the tree limb again. Elizabeth's laughter drifted up to him and he looked down, saying, "Are you going to leave me dangling, Elizabeth or are you going to join me?"

Elizabeth laughed again, reaching to pull her self up. Darcy turned away as she began to climb, his face flushing. He took a deep breath, murmuring, 'prudent, indeed.' He kept his eyes carefully averted until Elizabeth reached him.

Slightly out of breath, Elizabeth joined Mr Darcy near the top of the tree. She had never been this high before, and she relished the feeling of danger. She glanced up at Mr Darcy, and bit her lip to keep from laughing at the perplexed look on his face, as if he just realized he was in a tree. It was quite a sight to see the ever proper Mr Darcy clinging to a tree limb.

Darcy turned to look at Elizabeth, noting her amused expression, her eyes sparkling with delight. He raised his brows and in a formal voice, asked, "So, why are we in a tree, Elizabeth?"

With a raised brow, Elizabeth responded, "I believe I should be asking you that, Mr Darcy. This was _your _idea, sir."

Darcy smiled. "Yes, but I am not one for climbing trees." He reached out and lightly caressed Elizabeth's face. "Whereas, you are." Searching her eyes, he had a sudden moment of perceptiveness and clarity. "Tell me, why do you climb trees?"

Elizabeth became pensive as she thought about Mr Darcy's question. She responded softly, "I climbed my first tree when I was 8 years old." She glanced up at Mr Darcy, noting his gaze fixed on her face, his expression patient and open, inviting her to confide in him. She sighed. "I was escaping my mother and her...disapproval over something I had done." Elizabeth saw the subtle change in Mr Darcy's gaze as she mentioned her mother.

Elizabeth smiled wryly, "I climbed trees quite often in my youth, Mr Darcy. Until, I fell and broke my arm when I was 13. After that, my mother..." Elizabeth hesitated, before continuing in a soft voice, "forbid me from ever climbing again."

Darcy sucked in a sharp breath. And like the insensitive cad he was, he had said the exact same thing. Little wonder Elizabeth reacted the way she did. He shook his head in shame and regret. "I am so sorry, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth smiled softly. "I suppose I climbed trees because within the leaves and branches, I felt safe, protected. My mother's influence could not reach me here. I was able to remember who I was, who I wanted to become." Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. "I suppose it sounds silly, but I felt invincible."

Darcy stared at Elizabeth, his admiration evident as he gazed at the remarkable woman before him. Softly, he quoted, "If you would know strength and patience, welcome the company of trees." (3)

Elizabeth's gaze softened as her eyes perused his handsome face. Mr Darcy was truly a good man, an honorable man. A man she knew she could trust; with her heart, her soul, her dreams, and her fears. She shook her head in wonder that such a man desired, wanted _her._ She could no longer deny what her heart had been whispering for some time; she loved him, unconditionally.

Darcy noticed the expression in Elizabeth's eyes, and his heart rejoiced. He shifted slightly, so he was closer to her. "I want you to be able to tell me anything you wish, Elizabeth. I desire nothing more than your respect and your trust. I know, by my thoughtless words, I have damaged what we have begun to build between us, but..."

Elizabeth reached out and placed her hand softly over Mr Darcy's mouth. "You have already apologized, Mr Darcy." Removing her hand, she added, softly, "I forgive you. And I..." she looked down, suddenly unsure. Raising her head, she said with confidence, "I do trust you, Mr Darcy. And you have earned my respect." In a softer voice, she added, "and my regard."

Darcy swallowed the sudden lump in his throat at her honest admission. Clearing his throat, he said, with sincerity, "Thank you, Elizabeth. I promise you that your faith and trust in me will never be misplaced."

Elizabeth smiled, her heart light. She reached up, cupping his face with her hand, lightly caressing his cheek as she replied softly, "I know."

Darcy closed his eyes at Elizabeth's soft touch, leaning into her hand. He captured her hand, placing a kiss on the inside of her wrist, feeling her fluttering pulse beneath his lips. Opening his eyes, he stared into Elizabeth's luminous brown eyes, barely daring to breathe. The air between them became thick with unspoken expectation. His gaze traveled to her lips, and saw her soft intake of breath, noted the rapid rise and fall of her chest as he moved infinitesimally closer. Her scent surrounded him, making him lightheaded. He raised his eyes to meet hers, his heated gaze communicating his intent, his desire. He paused, gauging her reaction, waiting for her response to his silent request. Her eyes fluttered closed and with a exultant smile, he lowered his head.

"Lizzy? Mr Darcy? Are you here?"

With a gasp, Elizabeth's eyes flew open at the sound of her sister's voice. Mr Darcy groaned softly, slowly raising his head to meet her eyes. Elizabeth smiled at the look of frustration and disappointment on his face. She was sure her expression mirrored his. She silently cursed her sister for her untimely interruption. She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart and steady her breathing. Clearing her throat, she called out, "We're here, Jane."

Darcy unwillingly moved away from Elizabeth, keeping his gaze locked on hers, his eyes communicating a promise. _Soon._ With a smile, he said, reluctantly, "I believe it is time to return to the ground, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth blushed at the unspoken promise in Mr Darcy's eyes. With an unsteady voice, she said, "After you, Mr Darcy." Elizabeth followed Mr Darcy as he climbed down the tree. He jumped on the bench, turning to help her down. Her breath caught as he grasped her waist, lifting her down to stand beside him on the bench. Wordlessly, they stared at one another, until Jane, once again interrupted their private interlude with a pointed clearing of her throat.

Sharing a look of exasperation with Elizabeth, Darcy stepped down to the ground, reaching for her waist once again. This time, stepping away immediately.

Jane was staring at the pieces of the letter, scattered on the ground at their feet. She looked up, meeting her sister's eyes. Elizabeth smiled, discreetly nodding her head in Mr Darcy's direction. Jane sighed, smiling in approval. "Uncle sent me to fetch you." Turning to Mr Darcy, she asked, "You'll stay for tea, Mr Darcy?"

Darcy smiled, relieved he didn't have to say farewell to his Elizabeth just yet. "Yes, thank you, Miss Bennet." He waited for Jane to precede them, before reaching over and clasping Elizabeth's hand, interlacing his fingers with hers. He looked at Elizabeth. She was staring at their clasped hands a soft smile on her face. Sensing his gaze, she looked up and smiled brightly, squeezing his hand.

"Thank you, Mr Darcy," Elizabeth said with gratitude.

Darcy kissed Elizabeth's hand. "Of course, Elizabeth." Lowering his voice, he promised, "I will always be here for you, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth felt her heart soar at Mr Darcy's words. "I know." And in that moment, she knew it was true. Nothing could ever separate them. Elizabeth entered her Uncle's home with a joyful heart, with the man she loved close beside her.

**(3) Quote by Hal Borland. He is not a contemporary of JA, but the quote fit and I liked it, so I used it. **

A/N: *clears throat nervously* Come on, did you really think their first kiss would occur in a tree? Seriously? *sings* Darcy and Elizabeth sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. Come on, really? I can do better than that :)

So, you're probably all ready to throw virtual rocks at me for not giving you the full story on Mrs B. I am also rather frustrated with Gardiner and his secretiveness. He needs to man up and admit his mistake! Obviously he hasn't learned anything and doesn't realize that keeping Elizabeth in the dark is just going to hurt her. She will find out and he will wish he told her when he had the chance.

So, a couple of you have asked about Wickham - GAH! Just writing his name makes me break out in hives. I love to hate that man! So you will all be happy to hear that NO, he will not be making an appearance in this story *breathes a huge sigh of relief* ODC don't need his evilness, there is enough drama going on without him. So, rest easy. I was going to mention what happened to him in one of D &amp; R conversations. In my mind, he died as a young man, by drowning, or killed by a disgruntled father for messing with his daughter. Take your pick.

As for when Bingley will show up? He will be arriving in the next chapter (I believe). If not the next chapter, then the one after that. I haven't written it yet, so I'm not sure :)

Thanks for all your support and reviews! Keep 'em coming!

I thought I would give you the timeline of this story, thus far. The dates are accurate, I looked up an 1812 calendar :)

Mon 4/13: E &amp; J arrive in London

Tue 4/14: E meets Miss D in bookstore, helps choose D bday present

Th 4/16: Sir Reginald's Ball where ODC see each other for the first time

Sat 4/18: E goes to tea at Darcy House. Officially meets Mr Darcy for the first time

Mon 4/20: Tea at Gardiner Home with Darcy and Sir Reginald

Tue 4/21: Opera

Wed 4/22: D asks to court E, shopping trip, meets Lady W

Fri 4/23: Dinner at Matlock House with Lady Emily

Fri 5/1: Royal Menagerie

Sat 5/2: Foundling Hospital, E receives flowers from D, E finds out about Mr Williamson

Sun 5/3: reconciliation between ODC and they climb a tree, and almost kiss (sigh)

Coming up: Bingley's arrival and Darcy's birthday


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 22

Nothing but the deepest love could induce Elizabeth Bennet to willingly sit for lengthy periods of time and embroider. She was currently embroidering a handkerchief for Mr Darcy's upcoming birthday. The one benefit of engaging in such a mundane task was it allowed Elizabeth to think. And the direction of her thoughts inevitably dwelt on her Mr Darcy.

She had never been so happy. Until now, she had been perfectly content with her life. Despite her mother's censure, she had no cause to complain. She knew she was loved and valued by those closest to her, and it was enough. She never felt that anything was missing; until, Mr Darcy entered her life, turning her world upside down. He made her reexamine everything she thought she knew and believed about life and love. Before Mr Darcy, she had been resigned to her inevitable fate of remaining single and alone. She had admitted to no one, not even Jane that she secretly dreamed and longed to find the deepest, the truest of loves. She never truly believed such a love was meant for her.

Until now.

Her reconciliation with Mr Darcy was a life changing moment for Elizabeth. Never again would she doubt his regard or his intentions. She had not realized she lived in a constant state of fear that he would end their courtship, leave her without a second thought. She had allowed her mother's opinions and lies to cloud her judgment and her heart.

Never again.

Elizabeth knew it would take time to expel her mother's acerbic words from her heart and mind; half a lifetime of lies would not be purged overnight. But Mr Darcy's love would shine the way through the lingering darkness in her soul and allow her to heal. She had made the conscious decision to trust him, implicitly and without reservation. Never before had she the courage to let go of her long held insecurities and fear. But the moment Mr Darcy tore her mother's letter would forever stand as a pivotal turning point in her life. She could let go and refuse to allow her mother's words and opinions to poison her mind and heart.

Elizabeth suddenly hissed, sucking her finger after pricking the offending digit yet again. With a huff, she lowered the linen to her lap and glared at the bright red drop of blood on the end of her finger. She would have to wait to resume her stitching until it stopped or risk staining the delicate fabric. She looked up and met Jane's amused smile.

"It's not funny, Jane. At the rate I am going, I will never finish in time." Elizabeth sat back inelegantly, casually tossing her work to the side.

"Lizzy, you have already completed one, it is you that insists on embroidering three handkerchiefs for Mr Darcy." Jane said as she reached for her work basket.

"Maybe I should buy something instead," Elizabeth mused.

Jane smiled indulgently at her sister, knowing that she had already bought something for Mr Darcy's birthday. "A man likes to receive something homemade from the woman he loves, Lizzy."

Elizabeth raised a brow. "Indeed? And how, pray, would you know that, dear sister?"

Jane blushed a bright red, busying herself with finding a particular colored thread; keeping her head averted from her sister's keen gaze. She knew what her sister wanted. Elizabeth had been relentless since their conversation Saturday last, trying to ascertain her feelings for a certain, handsome Colonel.

Jane sighed. She didn't know why she was being deliberately evasive. There was nothing to tell. She looked up, and instantly regretted it. Elizabeth looked much too eager, a wide grin on her face, eyes dancing with expectation. Jane scowled at her sister.

Elizabeth laughed. "Jane. I don't know why you are avoiding the topic. I know that you are conflicted, and I want to help."

Elizabeth stood, moving to sit beside her sister. Taking her hand, she said, "You have always been there for me, Jane. I am indebted to you for helping me realize my feelings for Mr Darcy. Let me help you as you've helped me. Talk to me." In a softer tone, she pleaded, "Please."

Jane gazed at the earnest expression on her sister's face and sighed, resigned. "Very well. I do need to talk about it. I have thought about it so much, that I can't make any sense of it all!"

Elizabeth's eyes brightened, "Thought about what, exactly? I confess I have been so absorbed in my own love affair that I haven't paid much attention to yours." Elizabeth said with chagrin, "Forgive me, Jane."

Jane smiled at her sister, studying her features. Ever since Sunday last, when Mr Darcy had come to visit, she had noticed subtle changes in Elizabeth's demeanor and it made her heart rejoice. Elizabeth had always been a happy soul, quick to laugh and find amusement in the follies of others. But now, there was a lightness to her laughter, her eyes shone more brilliantly; undetectable, but to those who knew and loved her. She knew that whatever had occurred in the garden that Sunday afternoon had made a significant impact on how Elizabeth viewed herself and she thanked God and Mr Darcy for it.

"Don't be silly, Lizzy. I am so happy for you. You deserve to have a man like Mr Darcy in your life."

Elizabeth bit her lip, blushing. Her mind wandering to that gentleman. Shaking her head, she refocused her attention on her sister and asked, "So? Tell me about Colonel Fitzwilliam. I have noticed that your sarcastic comments about that gentleman have ceased these past few weeks."

Jane looked down, idly toying with a piece of blue thread. "Yes. I realized that trying to find fault with him did not have the desired effect."

Elizabeth raised a brow. "Which is?"

Jane sighed heavily and said hesitantly, "To convince myself that I didn't...like him."

Elizabeth grinned. "You only like him, Jane? Are you sure you're not feeling a deeper emotion?"

Jane looked at her sister, a thoughtful expression on her face. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course," Elizabeth replied without hesitation.

"How do you know you love Mr Darcy?"

"Jane," admonished Elizabeth. "You're not going to divert me by talking about Mr Darcy."

"No, I really want to know. I think it would help me, Lizzy. Truly." Jane pleaded.

Elizabeth nodded. "Very well." She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "I suppose it is different for everyone, but for me, I feel...complete when I am with him. As if he is the other half of my soul. From the very beginning of our acquaintance, I felt an undeniable connection between us that has only grown stronger with time."

With a far off look, and a soft smile, she continued. "I feel that I can be myself around him, and he accepts me for who I am. He _sees_ me, Jane; my faults and weaknesses, but also my strengths. With him, I know I will become who I was meant to be."

Elizabeth refocused her gaze on her sister, noting Jane's gaze was fixed steadfastly on her. Blushing, she added, "And my heart races whenever I am in his presence and I feel that I can never take a full breath when he is near. And when he smiles..." Elizabeth trailed off, a dazed look on her face. Jane's laughter snapped her out of her trance-like state and she blushed a deeper red. Clearing her throat, she asked, "Does that help?"

Jane looked at her sister, a soft smile on her face. Ignoring her sister's question she said, "You are happy, Lizzy. Happier than I have ever seen you. It warms my heart to see you so."

Elizabeth laughed. "Yes, I am happy, Jane." With a pointed look, she said, "But you're distracting me again. What do you feel for the Colonel?"

Jane was silent as she contemplated her sister's question. She shrugged her shoulders, "I think it is too soon to admit that I love him, but..." she trailed off, blushing. "I do feel that I am in danger of losing my heart to him completely."

Elizabeth squealed, reaching over to embrace her sister. "Oh, Jane! You don't know how happy that makes me! The Colonel is a wonderful man; kind, courageous, amiable, humorous." With a sly look at her sister, she added, "extremely handsome."

Jane laughed. "Yes, he is all those things. I thought before that he could never be serious, but I was wrong."

"Tell me," Elizabeth said with an eager expression.

"You know that I have always resented men for only seeing my outer beauty; not bothering to find out what lies beneath my pretty face."

Elizabeth sobered. "Yes. I do know, Jane. But the Colonel is not like most men, am I right?"

Jane smiled and shook her head, her eyes shining. "No. For the first time I feel that a man sees me, Lizzy. The real me, not just the calm, serene person that I present to the world. He sees past all that, and draws me out of my reserved shell."

Jane blushed, saying, "It's like you said, Lizzy. I feel that I can be myself around him, and he accepts me. He doesn't just treat me like a pretty face, but an individual with opinions of her own."

"And the Colonel? Do you think his heart is engaged?"

Jane took a deep breath. "I can't say for certain. There are times when he looks at me in a certain way, that I can barely breathe, Lizzy! But then, it's as if he closes a door on his true feelings and his expression becomes guarded." Hesitantly, she said, "It's like he's afraid of letting his admiration show. But why? What is he so afraid of?" Jane cried.

Elizabeth grabbed Jane's hand, squeezing it gently, she said, "Maybe he is afraid of rejection. I think all men need a little encouragement, Jane. Even a courageous Colonel of the King's Army."

Jane looked down, her brow furrowed. Hesitantly, she asked, "You think I should be more open in my regard towards the Colonel? What if I am wrong, Lizzy? What if he doesn't think of me in that way?"

Elizabeth bit her lip, trying to find the right words. "Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith. Follow your heart, Jane. The question you need to ask is whether the Colonel is worth taking a risk, knowing that it may end with a broken heart."

Jane stared at her sister, contemplating her words. Slowly she nodded her head. "Thank you Lizzy. You have given me much to think on."

Elizabeth squeezed her sister's hand. "I think that the Colonel cares for you a great deal, Jane. I don't know why he is hesitant in acting on his feelings, but I am sure there is a very good reason. Be open with him, Jane. Give him some encouragement and then hope and pray that he is not an idiot and walks away from the greatest blessing he could hope to receive in this life."

Jane stared at her sister in shock before bursting into laughter. "Lizzy!" she gasped.

Elizabeth joined her sister in laughter. "Well, it's true! His greatest achievement would be to secure your affection. He's an idiot if he walks away from you, Jane."

Jane wiped tears of mirth from her eyes. Shaking her head, she replied, "Well, then let's hope he's not an idiot."

"Maybe a little competition would force him to act?" Elizabeth suggested, with a raised brow.

"I'm not going to win him by making him jealous, Lizzy." Jane argued.

"Of course not! But what if someone else showed interest? And then we would see just how serious he is."

"Or not," mumbled Jane under her breath.

Elizabeth shook her head, "Don't be ridiculous, Jane! Of course he is. He may just need a little push in the right direction. There is nothing like a friendly competition to liven things up."

Jane gave her sister a pointed look. "Like with Mr Darcy and Sir Reginald?"

Elizabeth blanched. "Oh. Well, that was never really a competition, Jane. You know that."

"And neither is this, Lizzy," Jane said with certainty. "I can't imagine feeling this way about anyone else."

Softly, Elizabeth said, "You really do care for him, don't you, Jane?"

Jane nodded, a slow smile suffusing her face. "I do, Lizzy. I like him very much, indeed."

Elizabeth sighed happily. "Well, maybe Mr Darcy and I can persuade the Colonel to declare himself."

"Don't you dare, Elizabeth Bennet!" Jane cried.

Elizabeth laughed, "Rest easy, Jane. Things will work out, you'll see."

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

"Thank you, Mrs Fletcher. You have been a tremendous help." Darcy smiled at his long time housekeeper.

Darcy was planning a dinner in celebration for his birthday the following week with the assistance of his very capable housekeeper. Not for the first time, he wished that Georgiana was older and felt confident enough to undertake such things. Soon, Elizabeth would take over the management of his households. _Their households._ His heart quickened at the thought, a small smile gracing his features. He looked up to see an amused, longsuffering look on Mrs Fletcher's face.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Fletcher, did you say something?"

Trying to hide her smile, Mrs Fletcher responded, "I asked if you had the final guest list finalized, sir."

"Almost. I am still waiting to hear from a few people. I should know within the next day or so."

"Very good, sir. Is there anything else you wish to discuss?"

Darcy shook his head. "No, that will be all, Mrs Fletcher. Thank you again for your assistance."

Mrs Fletcher blushed at her master's praise. "Not at all, Mr Darcy. It is my pleasure. And if I may so bold, sir. We are all looking forward to welcoming Mrs Darcy."

Darcy eyed his housekeeper with raised brows. He should not be surprised that his household knew about his courtship of Elizabeth. He sighed. "Thank you, Mrs Fletcher. That will be all."

Darcy sat back in his chair, waiting for the inevitable entrance of his cousin. He was not disappointed. Within a minute of Mrs Fletcher exiting his study, Richard came sauntering in with a grin.

"That didn't take long. I expected you would planning for some time." Richard sat across from Darcy, his posture relaxed.

"No. Mrs Fletcher had things well in hand. She simply needed my approval before proceeding." Darcy ran his hands through his hair, glancing at the mantle clock. Almost time to leave for his daily visit with Elizabeth. He smiled in anticipation. Maybe he would be more successful this time...

Richard laughed at the lovesick expression on his cousin's face. "I think I will accompany you to Gardiners," Richard said casually.

Darcy looked up, eyeing his cousin. "Are you sure, Richard? I have sensed a certain reluctance from you these past few days. I don't want you toying with Miss Bennet's affections."

Richard sighed. "Yes, I know." With a grin, he said, "Besides, you need a chaperone Darcy. I would be remiss in my duty if I left you to your own devices."

Darcy glared at his cousin. Ever since his almost kiss with Elizabeth on Sunday, Richard had been extra diligent in making sure he was never alone with her. Although, Darcy had not said anything, Richard seemed to know that his relationship with Elizabeth had progressed to that point. It was starting to get annoying. His inability to finish what he started caused Darcy unending frustration and Richard unending delight.

Richard, ignoring his cousin's scowl, said, "Besides, I need to update Gardiner on what my contacts have discovered on John Williamson."

Despite their combined efforts, they still had not had any success in locating the man. It was frustrating to not have any answers; despite their many leads, they had all turned up cold. Darcy had even hired two more men to help with the search and to protect Elizabeth.

Darcy rubbed his eyes. "What have you discovered?"

"Not much. One of my contacts is following a lead. But I expect it will come to nothing."

"Anything from our contact in Edinburgh?"

Richard shook his head. "No. I don't expect to hear from him for another week at least."

Darcy sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I have had no luck, either. I am running out of options, Richard. It's as if this man does not want to be found."

"I know. But if he is still in London and interested in Miss Elizabeth, I suspect he will find us. Or her."

"That's what worries me, Richard. What if he gets past the men I hired to protect her?" Darcy stood and began pacing, his expression grim, posture rigid.

"Don't think like that, Darcy. We have done all that we can." With a sly smile, Richard said, "If you are so worried about her, why don't you marry her and then you can protect her. I'm sure you won't be more than a foot away from her for at least a year."

Darcy stared at Richard, with raised brows. "Only a year, Richard?" Darcy shook his head. "When Elizabeth is finally mine, I won't ever be apart from her if I can possibly help it."

Richard smirked. "Not if your lady love has anything to say about it. I suspect Miss Elizabeth will rebel against you smothering her independence."

"You think she'll tire of me so soon, cousin?" Darcy said with a grin.

Richard guffawed. Shaking his head, he said in a more serious tone. "Marry her, Darcy. Soon."

Darcy nodded absentmindedly. Richard had a point. It would relieve his mind to know that Elizabeth was under his protection, for more than one reason. Ever since he read Mrs Bennet's letter to Elizabeth, he had been hard pressed to not travel to Hertfordshire immediately and give that woman a piece of his mind. He would enjoy taking Elizabeth away from that woman, and bar her from ever entering any of their homes.

And Mr Bennet. Darcy scowled at the thought of Elizabeth's father. He had much to answer for as well. Although Darcy had never met the man, he had no respect for him. How could he allow his wife to send that caustic letter to Elizabeth? He was the man of the house, why didn't he control his wife and protect his daughter from his wife's censure?

"Why so dour, Darcy?" Richard watched his cousin's countenance turn grim.

"Elizabeth's parents." Darcy spat out, tersely.

Richard sobered immediately. Shaking his head, he said, "Just another reason to marry her as soon as possible, Darcy. She need not ever go back to her home. She could remain with Gardiner until you marry her."

Darcy sighed. "Yes. I know." With a smile, he asked, "How about making it a double wedding? I am sure Elizabeth would not mind sharing her wedding day with her sister."

Richard flushed and looked down, suddenly very interested in his boots.

Darcy raised his brows at his cousin's uncharacteristic demeanor. "Richard. What is going on?"

Richard stood and began pacing. Running a hand through his hair, he said, "I don't know, Darcy. Every time I come close to telling Jane how I feel, something prevents me."

Darcy leaned forward, his expression perplexed. "Do you hesitate because you are unsure of her feelings?"

Richard shook his head. "No. I feel confident enough in her feelings to share my own, but..." He rubbed his forehead, his expression tense. "I still can't do it."

Darcy gazed at his cousin, and carefully said, "Richard, you are worthy of Miss Bennet. You are a good man, an honorable man. Any woman would be lucky to have you."

Richard laughed humorlessly. "Am I? Am I truly the right man for her? Just because I care for her does not mean that she couldn't do better."

"Richard. Stop. You are still afraid." Darcy stated.

"I can't commit to a future with Jane when I don't know where I will be in a month!" Richard resumed pacing.

"Still no word on whether you'll be sent back?"

Richard shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. I have asked to remain at the War Office."

"Have you? Well, maybe its time you exert some of that familial influence. Your father is powerful, Richard. Maybe it's time you used it to your advantage."

Richard stared at Darcy, his expression hard. "Never. I make my own way on my own merits, Darcy. I will not cower behind my influential father."

Darcy sighed, knowing that Richard would never do such a thing. It was one of the reason's he respected and admired him like he did. "No, I suppose you won't. Well, then I suggest you declare yourself and ask Miss Bennet to wait for you. Or marry her as soon as possible and let her decide whether to go with you or remain behind and wait."

"Either way, she'll be waiting," Richard said grimly.

"Yes. But if she cares for you, she will wait. And she might choose to go with you wherever you are posted."

Richard shook his head vehemently. "No, I will not allow that. It is too dangerous."

"Richard. You simply need to decide if you want to marry Miss Bennet. Everything else will fall into place."

Richard sat, exhaling loudly. He snorted. "What ninny's women make of us men. If they only knew how they tie our hearts in knots."

"Decide, Richard. If not for your own sake, then for hers."

Richard stared at his cousin, finally nodding his head, "Very well. I will."

As Darcy stood to leave, Richard asked, "Have you heard from Bingley lately?"

Darcy shook his head. "No, not for over a month. Bingley is not a very reliable correspondent under good circumstances, and since the passing of his mother..."

Richard looked sympathetically at Darcy. He knew how the death of Mrs Bingley had made Darcy relive his own mother's death. He sighed. "His six months of mourning should be over soon. Do you expect him in time for your birthday celebration?"

Darcy shook his head. "No. I wrote him of course, but I don't expect him to attend."

Richard snorted. "He will if his horror of a sister gets wind of it. I am surprised she is not in London already. I imagine the mourning period was very hard on our dear Miss Bingley, especially as it denied her the first weeks of the season."

"Don't be disrespectful, Richard." Darcy admonished.

"My apologies, Darcy." Richard said with humility. "But you didn't answer my question, do you know when their six month mourning period is over?"

Darcy rubbed his chin in thought. "Well, I believe Mrs Bingley passed on the 14th of November, so..."

"So their six months is over the day of your birthday dinner." Richard stated. Raising his brows, he said, "And you think that Bingley will not attend?"

Richard rubbed his hands together, gleefully. "Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bingley in the same room together. After the set down she gave Lady Emily, I can't wait to see how she handles our dear Miss Bingley."

"Remember Richard, Miss Bingley is the sister of my dearest friend, whereas Lady Emily has no connection to me whatsoever."

Richard snorted. "Do you really think Miss Elizabeth is going to sit by and watch Miss Bingley hang all over you? Lady Emily is at least more discreet in her machinations. Miss Bingley has all the subtlety of a cannon blast."

Darcy raised his brows. "I have handled Miss Bingley thus far, Richard. Besides, I am not going to hide my regard for Elizabeth, especially in front of my personal acquaintances. Miss Bingley will know where my intentions lie."

Richard shook his head at his cousin's lack of foresight. "That won't stop Miss Bingley, Darcy. If anything, that will only cause her to become more desperate and vicious." He grimaced. "And I refuse to escort that woman anywhere but to Bedlam, so don't look to me to divert her attentions. I will be busy escorting Miss Bennet."

"Well this is a moot point because I don't believe they will be in town by then. So rest easy, cousin. You are safe from Miss Bingley." With that, Darcy left his study, Richard close behind him.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Neither Darcy nor Richard noticed the man standing across the street from Gardiners, watching intently as they entered the townhouse.

The man watched the men enter, his brow lowered in frustration. No doubt they would remain with Gardiners' daughters the entire afternoon and he would have to wait for another opportunity to speak with the girls alone.

The shock of seeing a young lady who so closely resembled Fanny Gardiner had made him act irrationally. He had followed her, wondering if she could possibly be a relation to Fanny. As he followed the fine carriage through the streets of London, his logical mind had come to one conclusion. She must be the daughter of Fanny's brother, Edward.

His expression changed to a scowl at the thought of _that man._ Mr Edward Gardiner, the cause of his disappointed hopes and the reason for his self-imposed exile to Scotland for the last twenty-five years.

Trying to forget.

Edward Gardiner was the reason he had to leave Meryton, leave Fanny. Even after all these years he still hadn't forgiven him for his interference. After a few discreet inquiries, he had discovered that Fanny's brother was extremely wealthy and well respected. He hadn't thought to ask about his family life.

So he watched and waited for an opportunity to speak to Gardiners daughter, the young lady who so closely resembled his Fanny. On one of his watches he had been astounded to see a woman who looked like a younger version of Mrs Gardiner, Fanny's mother. He realized that Gardiner had two daughters.

So much the better.

He noticed that a man was always with the young ladies. He would stand outside, watching and waiting until they left and he would discreetly follow them. At first he had been alarmed, thinking the big, brutish man wished them harm. But he had quickly realized that he was protecting them. Was Gardiner so hated that he had to hire thugs to protect his daughters? What type of business did he run?

This development made it extremely difficult to get one of the girls alone. He would have to continue watching and waiting until his moment would come.

And John Williamson was a very patient man.

A/N: So, more information on the Mrs B mystery. What is JW up to? I am sorry that so many of you are frustrated about now knowing _why_. Would you believe I never anticipated it would take this long myself? No? *shrugs shoulders apologetically*

Here is a little recap of what we know: Gardiner feels extremely guilty about deceiving his sister, Fanny. We now know that Gardiner made JW leave Meryton and Fanny. JW refers to Fanny as _his_ Fanny. He thinks that Jane and Lizzy are Gardiners daughters. Why would he not think they were Fanny's daughters? (hmmmm, think about that for a minute - some of you have already guessed where I'm going with this)

What we still don't know: What exactly did Gardiner do? What does Mrs B _believe _was the deception of her brother? Why does she feel that JW abandoned her? What is Mr B role in all this? And most importantly, why does Mrs B treat E with such disdain? I think that about covers it.

So, Bingley kind of made an appearance in this chapter, at least you now know where he's been. Poor Mrs Bingley. So, will he make it in time for Darcy's bday celebration?

**Please review to feed my muse!**

Thanks for your continued support!


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 23

Elizabeth took a deep breath, savoring the smell of earth after a cleansing rain. She was walking with Mr Darcy in the park near her Uncle's home, her sister walking several paces behind with Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana. They were enjoying the sunshine and warm weather after several days of unrelenting rain.

Elizabeth looked up as a gust of wind rushed through the small grove of trees, causing the leaves to rustle with a soft, melodic sound. The sun filtering through the thick canopy of leaves caused light to dance on the path in front of her. Jane's soft laughter sounded behind her and she smiled, tilting her head back to catch the beams of sunlight on her face.

Happiness. This is what it felt like; warm sunshine, the smell of verdant foliage, and most importantly, her companion walking close beside her. She wanted to memorize this feeling of utter contentment and peace, hold it close to her heart. Remember it always.

"What are you thinking Elizabeth?" Mr Darcy's soft voice penetrated her thoughts.

Elizabeth opened her eyes to meet Mr Darcy's soft gaze. She bit her lip, blushing slightly. _You.__I am thinking of __you._ Since their conversation last Sunday, there had been an unmistakable shift in their relationship. She hadn't realized before how her fears and insecurities had kept her from being completely open with him. Admitting to herself that she loved Mr Darcy had caused the last protective barrier she had placed around her heart to fall away.

She smiled, grasping his arm a little tighter and said simply, "I am thinking how happy I am, Mr Darcy. It is a glorious day." She looked up at him, a playful gleam in her eyes and said teasingly, "The company is not bad, either."

Darcy laughed, bowing his head in acknowledgement. "I am glad I meet with your approval, Elizabeth."

"Indeed you do, sir," Elizabeth said happily. With a raised brow, she said, "I see you have dropped all pretense of calling me Miss Elizabeth, Mr Darcy."

Darcy smiled, nodding his head. "Yes, to me you have always been Elizabeth. Miss Elizabeth is much too formal. Don't you agree?"

Elizabeth nodded her head. "Yes, I agree."

"Although, in company I suppose I will have to continue to address you properly."

Elizabeth laughed, "Yes, my Uncle would not be amused to hear you calling me by my Christian name."

Darcy hesitated briefly before saying, "Elizabeth, I would like for you to address me as Fitzwilliam when we are alone."

Elizabeth arched one delicate eyebrow and asked lightheartedly, "Is that a command, Mr Darcy?"

Darcy stopped, turning to face her. He searched her face, taking in every beloved feature. He smiled, bringing her gloved hand to his lips for a kiss. "It is a request. I would like it very much if you would."

Elizabeth blushed and looked down. She wanted to, but she wished to save it for a specific occasion, so she simply nodded.

Darcy gently raised her chin. "But only if you are comfortable with doing so," he added softly.

Elizabeth stared at Mr Darcy, barely daring to breathe as his gaze roved over her face lovingly. Her breath caught as his gaze drifted to her lips and he slowly lifted his hand, lightly tracing her lips with his finger.

A throat cleared loudly some distance behind them. Darcy closed his eyes, lowering his hand. Opening his eyes he turned his head, glaring at his smirking cousin. Miss Bennet was looking back and forth between him and Elizabeth, her eyes wide. Georgiana's eyes were bright; bouncing lightly on her toes, barely containing her excitement.

He sighed, turning to look at Elizabeth. As she met his gaze, a beautiful blush spread over her face. He smiled sheepishly, offering his arm so they could resume their walk. Remorsefully, he said, "Forgive me, Elizabeth. I forgot myself for a moment."

Elizabeth nodded her head, unable to speak. How mortifying! Jane would certainly be having words with her later. She searched for something to say. Her Aunt had encouraged her to speak to Mr Darcy about her mother. Now that he knew the worst, she could be more open with him; show him that she trusted him.

Quietly, she said, "I received another letter from my mother this morning."

Darcy inhaled sharply. What could _that woman_ possibly have to say now? He perused Elizabeth's face trying to ascertain her state of mind. She looked peaceful, content. _Happy._ Darcy breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Whatever was said, it hadn't affected her.

"Don't you want to know what was said, Mr Darcy?" Elizabeth asked, her eyes shining with a triumphant light.

Darcy looked at Elizabeth, surprised at the mischievous glimmer in her eyes. His eyes narrowed. "You didn't read it, did you?"

Elizabeth smiled, exultantly. "I did not. I immediately tore it to shreds." It had been difficult. The need to read it had been almost overpowering, but she had prevailed.

With a laugh, she continued, "I shocked poor Simmons. He gaped at me for a full five seconds before hastily bowing and retreating with more speed than I thought possible."

Darcy smiled, placing his free hand over Elizabeth's wrapped around his arm. "I am glad, Elizabeth."

Softly, she said, "You gave me the courage to do it, Mr Darcy. Thank you."

Darcy shook his head, stopping their progress so he could look at her. "No, Elizabeth. You did that." As Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest, he gently placed his fingers over her lips. He repeated firmly, "_You_ did that, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth took a deep breath before saying so quietly, Darcy had to lean in to hear her. "My mother didn't always treat me so disdainfully."

Darcy's brows raised in surprise. "No? When did it start?"

"Not until I was around 8 or so." Elizabeth glanced up at Mr Darcy, her eyes full of a long held pain. "Before that, she always acted exasperated by my behavior as I was rather lively and precocious as a child. But her behavior towards me was never disparaging or contemptuous." In a softer voice, she added, "That came later."

Darcy clenched his jaw in anger. "Why? Why does she treat you so, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth whispered, "I don't know, Mr Darcy. I have thought about it many times, but I have never been able to discover the motive for her changed behavior towards me." As an afterthought, she added, "Her behavior towards me changed gradually, until by the time I was 12, I could barely remember the mother she had been before."

"Did something occur when you were 8 that could have caused your mother's behavior to change?"

"I don't recall anything out of the ordinary happening at that time." She bit her lip, shaking her head, "But I was a child, if something did happen, I was not aware of it."

"May I ask a personal question, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth looked at Mr Darcy, surprised by the hesitancy evident in his voice. "Of course."

Darcy paused, debating whether he had a right to ask. Taking a deep breath, he inquired, "How is your parents relationship?"

Confused, Elizabeth responded, "My parents?" She shrugged. "I think the word I would use would be apathetic. They are completely indifferent to one another. They hardly occupy the same room, except for meals. My father spends the majority of his time, hiding in his study."

Darcy had to repress the urge to say some cutting remark against her father. "And your mother? What is her attitude towards your father?"

Elizabeth paused, considering Mr Darcy's question. It was difficult to say as she didn't observe her parents together very often. When they were together, her mother usually ignored her father. They never addressed each other, unless absolutely necessary. For almost as long as she could remember, they had acted like strangers living in the same house. But there were several instances when her mothers expression as she gazed on her father had been...

"Resentful," Elizabeth whispered. She looked at Mr Darcy with sudden awareness, "She resents him."

Darcy's brow lowered in contemplation. "Do you know why?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "No. When I was younger I believed they shared a mutual regard and affection. They were never openly affectionate, but they tolerated one another with equanimity." She rubbed her forehead, trying to make sense of her parents failed relationship.

"I wonder," Elizabeth quietly mused.

Darcy waited until Elizabeth was ready. He was honored that she trusted him enough to talk openly about her family life. He knew it couldn't be easy for her.

"I could be guessing, but I think my parents relationship began to fail when my mother failed to birth a son."

Darcy looked at Elizabeth in astonishment. "Why would that have any bearing on your parents relationship?"

Quietly, Elizabeth responded, "Longbourn is entailed away from the female line, Mr Darcy. When my father dies, Longbourn will go to my father's cousin, Mr Collins. No doubt the disappointment put a strain on their relationship, perhaps beyond repair."

Darcy was silent, not knowing what to say. He couldn't imagine how uncertain Mrs Bennet felt in her future and the future of her daughters. However pitiable her plight, it in no way justified her treatment of Elizabeth. He was grateful that Pemberley was not entailed. If he and Elizabeth only had daughters it would not affect them in the least. And if they were not blessed with children, Georgiana's oldest son would inherit.

Darcy gazed sadly at Elizabeth. He couldn't imagine what her home life was like. He had been blessed with two loving parents, who loved their children and each other. He kissed Elizabeth's hand, compassion filling his heart. "I am sorry, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth smiled softly, "It is not your fault, Mr Darcy. But thank you for listening."

Darcy squeezed Elizabeth's hand and said with conviction, "I said I would always be here for you, Elizabeth and that you could tell me anything. I meant what I said. I am honored that you trust me enough to share this with me." In a soft voice, he added, "I know it can't be easy for you to talk about such a painful subject."

Elizabeth pondered Mr Darcy's words. "It is not as difficult as I imagined it would be." She knew it was because she felt secure in his affections and intentions. She smiled contentedly at the thought.

Wanting to change the subject, she asked about how the search for John Williamson was progressing.

Surprised, Darcy responded, "Hasn't your Uncle kept you informed?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, he hasn't. I am anxious for him to be found."

"I am sure. I will be relieved as well. I don't like the idea of you being threatened."

Elizabeth smiled. "I don't feel threatened in the least, Mr Darcy. Although, I don't quite like the idea of being followed by your hired men whenever I leave the house, I don't even notice them anymore. But, that is not the reason I want him found."

"No? You mean there is another reason more important than finding the man who could mean you harm?" Darcy looked at Elizabeth in consternation.

Elizabeth replied with conviction, "Answers, Mr Darcy. My uncle promised me answers after Mr Williamson is found."

"Ah, I see. He was not forthcoming with his history with that gentleman?" Darcy was not surprised. He didn't understand why Gardiner felt it necessary to be so secretive. Probably guilt. Whatever his history, it couldn't be anything good. He just hoped it didn't affect Elizabeth negatively.

Elizabeth nodded her head. "John Williamson is directly connected to my mother, Mr Darcy. I can't help but think he is the reason my mother is so bitter and vindictive." She shook her head. "I guess I am hoping it will help me understand my mother a little better."

Darcy said firmly, "It in no way excuses her behavior towards you, Elizabeth."

"I know. I may never know why she treats me the way she does, but I can at least try to understand her motives for doing so. It will help me, I think. Does that make sense?"

Darcy slowly nodded his head. "Yes. You want to understand her so you can move past the hurt she has caused." Softly, he added, "So you can try to forgive her."

Elizabeth stared at Mr Darcy, tears filling her eyes. He understood. She whispered, "Does that make me a fool, Mr Darcy?"

Darcy stopped and turned, grasping both her hands in his as he said, earnestly. "No, Elizabeth. It does not make you a fool. It is just another example of who you are. You are truly a remarkable woman, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth shook her head vehemently. "No, I am not. If I were, I would have forgiven her long ago. I don't even know if I am capable of forgiving her."

"The fact that you desire it and that you are trying is testament to your strong character, Elizabeth. Most people would hold a grudge and allow their misfortunes to turn them bitter." _Like your mother._

Wiping away a tear, Elizabeth responded, "It is because I don't want to turn out like my mother than I am trying to forgive her."

Darcy handed Elizabeth a handkerchief, tenderly wiping a lingering tear from her face. "You could never be like your mother, Elizabeth. You are too good."

Elizabeth didn't respond. She was more like her mother than Mr Darcy knew. Not just in appearance, but temperament as well. How many times had she heard her father say how much she reminded him of her mother when she was that age? If her mother was capable of becoming bitter, than so was she.

As Elizabeth wiped away her remaining tears, she noticed her sister down the path, looking between her and Mr Darcy, a distressed look on her face. Elizabeth smiled reassuringly. She hoped Jane didn't think her and Mr Darcy were at odds.

Elizabeth turned to Mr Darcy, who was watching her with a tender expression on his face. She blushed, clearing her throat. "I think it would be best if we discuss something more pleasant, Mr Darcy. My sister is about to come and take me away from you for causing me distress."

Darcy again offered his arm, drawing her close to his side. "We can't have that." Darcy smiled down at Elizabeth as they resumed walking. "What would you like to discuss? I can think of any number of pleasant topics."

With a raised brow, Elizabeth replied, "How about your upcoming birthday? Tell me, what does the illustrious Mr Darcy want for his birthday?"

_You._Darcy cleared his throat, and said, "I don't require gifts, Elizabeth. I have everything I need." _Almost._

Elizabeth looked downcast. "Oh. Well, I guess I won't give you my gifts."

Darcy's eyes lit up. "Gifts? You mean you bought me more than one?"

Elizabeth smiled at Mr Darcy's eager response. "I bought you one gift, Mr Darcy."

"But you said _gifts_, Elizabeth. Meaning more than one," Darcy replied seriously, his eyes twinkling with suppressed laughter.

Elizabeth shook her head in amusement. Mr Darcy looked so carefree, so happy. She realized that it was very similar to his expression from the portrait of him as a young man. She remembered Georgiana showing her that portrait on her very first visit to Darcy House. Was it really almost one month ago?

"I said I bought you one gift, Mr Darcy. Which would imply that the other is not something I bought."

A slow smile spread across Darcy's face. "You made something for me?"

Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "Maybe."

"Minx. What is it?"

Elizabeth laughed. "Mr Darcy, I remember you saying you liked surprises. If I told you it would not be a surprise, now would it?"

Darcy gave Elizabeth a mock glare. "You, Miss Elizabeth are cruel to leave me in torment."

Elizabeth raised a brow. "So I am Miss Elizabeth again, am I?"

Darcy nodded, "And you will remain so until I get what I want."

"Your gifts." Elizabeth stated.

With a sideways glance at Elizabeth, Darcy replied, mysteriously, "Among other things."

Elizabeth's brow lowered in confusion. _What other things?_ She glanced up at Mr Darcy to see a small smile on his face. As if sensing her perusal, Mr Darcy looked down at her. She sucked in a breath at the look in his eyes. She hadn't seen that particular expression since...their almost kiss. As if knowing the direction of her thoughts, Mr Darcy's gaze moved to linger on her lips. Elizabeth blushed, looking away.

Breathlessly, she asked, "Tell me about your dinner party, Mr Darcy. Who have you invited?"

Darcy blinked at the sudden change in topic. He cleared his throat. "Only those you know. Your Aunt, Uncle and sister as well as my Aunt and Uncle, sister, and cousin."

"What about Lady Worthington and Lord Worthington?" Elizabeth asked.

Darcy raised his brows. "I had not thought to invite them." Thoughtfully, he said, "Perhaps that is an oversight on my part?"

Darcy watched Elizabeth to gauge her reaction. If she wanted them to be invited, then he would. He preferred small, intimate gatherings, but he would not mind adding a few more guests, especially since he hadn't heard from Bingley.

Elizabeth nodded enthusiastically. "It would be nice to see her again. I owe her so much and I would enjoy spending more time with her."

Darcy looked at Elizabeth in surprise. "I didn't realize that you felt that way about Lady Worthington. Of course I will invite her, if that is your wish."

"I would not presume to tell you who to invite to your own dinner party, Mr Darcy," Elizabeth began, then blushed as she realized she had done just that.

"On the contrary, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy replied. He paused, waiting for Elizabeth to meet his eyes, before saying in a low voice, "You have every right."

Elizabeth stared wide eyed at Mr Darcy, her mouth slightly agape in astonishment. He had made veiled references to their future together before, but never so blatantly. Before she could think of a witty rejoinder, or why he had made such an obvious comment, the rest of their party joined them on the path.

Richard looked at his cousin and Miss Elizabeth in amusement. "I think we have kept the ladies out long enough, Darcy. Don't you think?"

Darcy tore his gaze away from Elizabeth to bestow a glare at his cousin. What horrible timing Richard had. "Why don't we ask the ladies, cousin?" Darcy replied, displeased.

With a twinkle in his eye, Richard turned to Jane. "What say you, Miss Bennet? Have you had enough of my dour company today?"

Jane looked at the Colonel for a moment before replying sweetly, "I have, Colonel. However, I would enjoy spending time with your cousin."

"Darcy?" Richard cried in mock horror.

Everyone laughed as Jane blushed. "No, you silly man. I meant Miss Darcy, Colonel."

With a wink, Richard replied, "Of course you did, Miss Bennet."

Richard asked Darcy, "So, what are you two talking about so seriously? I hope we're not interrupting anything?"

With a smile, Elizabeth replied, "Not at all, Colonel. We were talking about Mr Darcy's upcoming birthday."

Richard raised his brows in amusement. "Indeed?" Turning to Elizabeth with a mischievous grin, he asked, "Did he tell you what he wants for his birthday?"

"Richard," Darcy said in warning.

"What?" Richard responded innocently.

Darcy shook his head. Richard had teased him mercilessly the past week about all Darcy wanting for his birthday was a few moments alone with Elizabeth so he could finally kiss her.

Elizabeth looked back and forth between Mr Darcy and the Colonel, sensing an unspoken tension between them. She shook her head. Smiling, she said, "Mr Darcy was informing me of who was coming."

"Ah, so he told you all about his friend, Mr Bingley and his sister?"

Darcy suppressed a groan. He was going to kill Richard. Slowly. "Richard, I have not heard from Bingley. I don't believe he is coming."

Darcy turned to Elizabeth and explained. "My friend, Charles Bingley has been in the North for the past six months due to his mother's unexpected passing last November."

Elizabeth watched as a flash of pain crossed Mr Darcy's handsome face as he mentioned Mrs Bingley's passing. Elizabeth sighed. Maybe she would someday have the courage to broach that topic. She knew that he had never fully healed from that tragic event. He was helping her overcome the hurt of her mother's disdain, the least she could do was help him grieve for his mother properly.

"I am very sorry to hear of Mrs Bingley's passing. Perhaps we will meet your friend on another occasion?" Elizabeth asked hopefully. She was interested to know what type of friends the reserved Mr Darcy had.

"He is invited to Pemberley every August, Lizzy. So I am sure you will become acquainted with him then." Georgiana said excitedly. She couldn't wait until her brother married Lizzy and brought her to Pemberley. Then she would have Lizzy all to herself.

An awkward silence fell following Georgiana's innocent statement. Elizabeth blushed a deep red, turning away from Mr Darcy, focusing her attention on the wild flowers on the side of the path.

"Did I say something wrong?'" Georgiana inquired hesitantly, her expression dismayed.

Hearing the distress in her young friends voice, Elizabeth was quick to offer reassurances. "Not at all, Georgiana. I am very much looking forward to meeting Mr Bingley and his sister."

Richard laughed. "You would not say that, Miss Elizabeth if you were acquainted with Miss Bingley. She is rather..."

"Richard. Enough." Darcy admonished.

Jane, trying to steer the conversation toward a more safe topic, asked, "Tell us about your friend, Mr Darcy. How did you meet him?"

Darcy smiled gratefully at Elizabeth's sister. Yes, Miss Bennet would do very well for Richard. He needed a calming presence in his life to counter his restless and exuberant spirit.

As they made their way back to Gardiners, Darcy shared how he met Bingley at Cambridge, taking the younger man under his wing.

"He was like a little lost puppy," Richard explained with a grin.

Darcy shook his head, "He was not, Richard. He was simply in a new environment, surrounded by strangers."

"That's what I said, a lost puppy."

Darcy glared at his cousin. "Anyway, he quickly acclimated to his new environment as Bingley is naturally a very amiable fellow, and it was not difficult for him to make friends."

"Unlike, my reserved cousin, here." Richard responded impertinently.

Ignoring Richard, Darcy shared anecdotes of the two years he and Bingley were at Cambridge together.

"You mean, he didn't even think to look in the mirror before taking his oral exam?" Jane asked breathlessly, holding her stomach from laughing so hard. She looked forward to meeting this friend of Mr Darcy's. He sounded like a delightful companion.

"I still can't believe you painted a moustache on Mr Bingley while he slept, Mr Darcy," Elizabeth said with amusement, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. Who knew Mr Darcy had such a teasing streak in him?

Darcy smiled at Elizabeth, mesmerized by the brilliance of her eyes. She was stunning when she laughed.

"Well, Miss Elizabeth. Guess where he got the idea from," Richard said, waggling his eyebrows.

Jane gave an unladylike snort. "Figures. You are a dreadful influence, Colonel Fitzwilliam."

Richard clutched his chest, "I am hurt, Miss Bennet. Darcy would be an old stick in the mud if not for my influence."

Georgiana laughed. "I have to agree with Jane, cousin. You are a terrible influence on my brother."

Everyone laughed as Richard feigned a wounded expression. He shook his head. "No one appreciates what I try to do." With a sly grin, he added, "You haven't asked what Bingley did in retaliation."

"Richard," Darcy said, shooting his cousin a warning look.

Ignoring his cousin, Richard said with a wide grin, "He cut a hole in the back of Darcy's head, the size of his fist."

Everyone burst out laughing. Darcy shook his head, his face flushing from embarrassment. He growled, "It was not a fair retaliation. The ink I applied on Bingley's face washed off within a day. Whereas I had to practically shave my head or walk around with a bald patch until it grew back."

Elizabeth looked sympathetically at Mr Darcy. "I can't imagine you with such short hair, Mr Darcy." Unconsciously she reached up, lightly fingering his hair resting just above his collar. Realizing what she had just done, she snatched her hand away, blushing a deep red.

Elizabeth stammered, "Forgive me, Mr Darcy." She closed her eyes in mortification, wishing she could just disappear. What had she been thinking? To do such a thing in front of Mr Darcy's sister and cousin! She couldn't bring herself to look at him. She forced herself to keep walking, keeping her face turned away.

Darcy took a deep breath. This woman would be the death of him. He glanced at his cousin who wore a very smug expression on his face. When Darcy met his gaze, he winked. Darcy sighed. He glanced at Elizabeth who refused to look at him. She still had his arm but she had distanced herself as much as possible. He frowned, that would not do at all. He reached over, laying his hand over hers resting on his arm, bringing her once again close to his side. Squeezing her hand, he whispered so the others would not hear, "I am not offended, Miss Elizabeth." _Quite the contrary._

Elizabeth took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. Tentatively, she glanced up at him to see his reaction. She was surprised at the look of utter contentment on his face. When she met his gaze, he smiled.

"Please don't make yourself uneasy, Miss Elizabeth." Darcy said reassuringly.

Elizabeth nodded her head, and responded softly, "Thank you."

Richard cleared his throat. "Well, don't feel too badly for Mr Darcy as he got back at Bingley a fortnight later."

Jane, still reeling from her sister's indiscreet and improper gesture, asked, "What did he do, Colonel?"

"I know!" Georgiana exclaimed a little too loudly. "He put ink in his tea, which turned his teeth black!"

Elizabeth gasped. "You didn't!"

"Oh, he most certainly did. He made me proud that day," Richard said with satisfaction.

Jane shook her head, "It didn't make him sick, did it?"

"Of course not, I didn't put in that much. Although, it did stain his teeth for a month. His demeanor was rather subdued that month," Darcy recollected fondly.

At Elizabeth's confused look, Darcy explained, "Bingley is a very happy, amiable individual and is rather expressive in his address. It was impossible for him to talk, smile or laugh without his teeth showing."

Elizabeth started laughing. "I see. Poor Mr Bingley. It will be difficult to meet him with equanimity as I will imagine him with a painted moustache and black teeth!"

Darcy smiled. "Indeed. But Bingley is a kind-hearted fellow, he is not one to take offense. He would be the first person to laugh."

"He sounds a lot like you, Colonel." Jane observed with a smile.

Darcy forestalled his cousin by saying, "No, not at all, Bingley is rather..." He rubbed his chin trying to think of the correct word.

"I think the word you are looking for is absentminded, forgetful, scatterbrained." Richard supplied helpfully with a grin.

"Yes, thank you, Richard, " Darcy said dryly. "Bingley is not unintelligent, but he is rather forgetful."

Richard snorted. "That's putting it mildly. It's a good thing the man has a good valet or he would likely leave the house without the proper articles of clothing."

"Richard!" Darcy admonished. "Need I remind you that ladies are present?"

"Forgive me, ladies," Richard bowed his head. "I don't think I need to say that I forgot myself for a moment." In an quiet voice, he added, "As others here have done." Richard winked at Elizabeth, causing her to blush crimson.

Darcy shook his head in exasperation at his cousin. "Well, I hope you will make Mr Bingley's acquaintance soon." Darcy smiled at Elizabeth and her sister.

With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, Richard said, "Now Darcy, tell them about Miss Bingley."

A/N: Well, this is much shorter than I anticipated. I was hoping to get to the arrival of Bingley, but my writing time was limited these past few days due to my kiddos not napping, which is when I am able to do the majority of my writing. So, Bingley will make an appearance next chapter, I promise. But, at least you have an idea of what he is like from Darcy and Richard's description. Good man, Bingley, don't you think? ;-) Poor Jane, having to choose between two good men. What to do? What to do? *wrings hands*

But at least the majority of the chapter was D &amp; E conversation/fluff which was needed I think after their misunderstanding. I think I covered the gamut of emotions during their conversation. Talk about intense! But it was needed. At least you have a little more insight into the relationship of her parents. Interesting, huh?

Still no kiss, sorry. I think Darcy was rather frustrated to have three chaperones on that walk. If you're wondering why the man hasn't proposed yet, he did allude to it in a very marked way - did you catch it? Remember, they have known each other for just under a month!

Thank you so much for all your comments and for all those who have followed and favorited this story.

**Please review** and tell me what you think, good and bad. There have been several negative comments, and that's okay. I am perfectly aware that I can't please everyone; statistically it's impossible. But even the negative reviews have been respectful (for the most part :-) So give it to me, I can take it!

I responded to everyone who had a question about Mrs B/JW/E mystery. For those who don't have PM enabled or accounts, here is my response to your inquiries:

**Ingrid H:** In a way, Gardiner separated Fanny and JW (not in the way you think). Jane and/or Elizabeth are not JW daughters. JW left England 25 years ago, before J &amp; E were born.

**Guest:** Jane is not Gardiner's daughter. J &amp; E are sisters. Darcy was just speculating on the possible relationship between Jane and Elizabeth. They look enough alike that he recognized they were related, but not enough to think they were sisters. In the last few chapters, I revealed that while E looks very much like Mrs B, Jane looks a lot like Mrs B mother.

**Guest:** JW is not E and J father. Gardiner didn't get rid of JW per se, but he was responsible for thinking he had abandoned Fanny.

**Merlin:** You are correct in your assumptions :) Kudos!

Also, for all those pleading for Jane and the Colonel to end up together, all I have to say is just wait and see ;) *grins impishly*

Much love!

MAH


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 24

Elizabeth left the drawing room immediately after their guests left later that afternoon. She knew it was cowardly to avoid Jane, but she didn't want to see the disappointment in her eyes. Elizabeth blushed anew at her indiscreet and improper behavior. Mr Darcy was right, it was so easy to forget oneself when in his presence. As she contemplated her behavior, she realized the only reason she felt embarrassed was because her conduct had been witnessed by others. What did that say about her?

Elizabeth sighed softly, shifting her position on the sofa in the sitting room she shared with Jane. She was embroidering the last of three handkerchiefs for Mr Darcy's birthday, determined to complete it before the end of the day.

Jane quietly entered, pausing at the threshold to study her sister. Although Elizabeth knew she was there, she didn't look up. Taking a deep breath, she said, quietly, "I am not angry at you, Lizzy."

Elizabeth raised her head, her expression surprised. "No? You don't have protect my feelings, Jane. I know very well what you are feeling. I disappointed you."

Jane sat next to her sister. She sighed. "Do you regret your behavior today, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth glanced at her sister, a mischievous smile on her face. "I regret that I was wearing gloves."

Jane stared at her sister, open-mouthed before collapsing against the sofa, laughing. "Lizzy!" she gasped.

Elizabeth laughed, a blush covering her face. Sobering, she looked at her sister. "You truly are not disappointed in me, Jane?

Jane sat up, shaking her head. "Not exactly. I was more surprised I think. I suppose I never considered your relationship with Mr Darcy had progressed to a point where you would feel comfortable doing such a thing."

Elizabeth bit her lip, considering her words. "I have always felt comfortable in his presence, Jane. Even from the very beginning."

Jane stared at Elizabeth, wide eyed. Hesitantly, she asked, "So, there have been other instances where you have behaved improperly?"

Elizabeth lowered her sewing to her lap, so she could focus her attention on her sister. "Nothing so improper, Jane." At her sister's incredulous expression, she reiterated, "Truly."

Jane leaned forward, whispering, "He-he hasn't kissed you, has he?"

Elizabeth shook her head, blushing. "No, although he would have if you hadn't interrupted us."

Jane sat back, stunned. "When?"

With a smile, Elizabeth said simply, "The tree."

Jane raised her brows, a slow smile tugging the edges of her mouth. "Well, I am glad I am being a good older sister."

Grasping Elizabeth's hand in excitement, she asked, "Have you come to an understanding with Mr Darcy?"

Elizabeth shook her head, "No, we have not."

Jane's brow lowered in confusion, "Well, I don't understand what he's waiting for. He loves you, you love him..."

"Jane!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "It's been less than a month! I don't expect him to propose so soon. We are taking the time to become better acquainted."

Sensing her sisters distress, Jane asked, softly, "Lizzy. Do you really need more time?"

Without hesitation, Elizabeth responded, "No." She took a deep breath before continuing, "But he may need more time, Jane. I am confident in his regard and his intentions. He will propose when he is ready."

Jane studied her sister. Cautiously, she asked, "What if you were to...well, help him along?"

Elizabeth stared incredulously at her sister. "Who are you and what have you done with my proper, older sister?"

Jane laughed. "I am being serious, Lizzy."

Elizabeth turned to face her sister. "Jane! I am not going to compromise, Mr Darcy."

"Good heavens, Lizzy! I am not talking about compromising him!" Jane was aghast that her sister believed she would suggest such a thing. Seeing Elizabeth's barely contained laughter and a distinctive, teasing glimmer in her eye, she huffed, "That is not funny, Lizzy. You should not even joke about such a thing."

Elizabeth laughed, "Forgive me, Jane. I couldn't help it." With a smile, she asked, "What exactly do mean, 'help him along?'"

Jane shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know." Her gaze fell on her sister's discarded handkerchief lying next to her. Picking it up, she studied the perfectly embroidered F and partially embroidered D in one corner. "Perhaps, you could embroider something on the handkerchief?"

"Such as... my initials?" Elizabeth suggested with a raised brow, eyes sparkling deviously.

Jane pursed her lips at her sister, "Nothing so obvious, sister dear."

"Then what?"

Jane shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe you could add something more personal, something that you like, perhaps."

Elizabeth contemplated her sister's plan. An idea began to formulate in her mind and with a grin, she plucked the handkerchief from her sister's hands. "I think I have just the thing."

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Darcy leaned back in his chair, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. "Nothing. After nearly a fortnight, we still have nothing!"

Richard sighed, eyeing his cousin with sympathy. "Darcy, it is very possible that John Williamson returned to Scotland or he is simply living his life in London, unaware of the turmoil he is causing."

Darcy stood, unable to sit still for a moment longer. Since returning from his walk with Elizabeth earlier that afternoon, he and Richard had sequestered themselves in his study; reviewing all the reports they'd accumulated thus far in the pursuit of finding John Williamson. The result of hours of reading and planning had brought them to one conclusion, they had reached a dead-end in their search.

"Darcy," Richard said firmly. "I think it's time we put a little more pressure on Gardiner. He knows more than he is telling us. If he is withholding information, then it could be the difference between success and failure." Richard came to stand next to Darcy. "If we are serious about finding him, we must have more information!"

Darcy looked at his cousin, exhaling loudly. "I've tried, Richard. The man refuses to say anything more. Besides, he knows the history of the man and he is not any closer to finding him then we are!"

Frustrated, Richard exclaimed, "Well, maybe he is not putting forth a valiant effort in locating him!"

Darcy stared at his cousin. "What? Do you honestly think Gardiner is faking his reports? He seems as intent on finding him as we are."

Richard sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I don't know, Darcy. But I can't help feeling that Gardiner does not want John Williamson found." He leveled a significant look at his cousin. "He is carrying secrets, Darcy. He is weighed down by guilt. A man with a guilty conscience will go to great lengths to keep his secrets hidden."

_Hidden from Elizabeth._ Darcy inhaled sharply at his sudden moment of clarity. He knew what needed to be done. Walking purposefully to his desk, he started going through all the reports from their various contacts, looking for a specific one.

"What are you looking for, Darcy?" Richard asked, confused at his cousins behavior.

"The reports from Gardiner."

"Why?"

Without looking up from his search, he answered brusquely, "I think you're right, Richard. Gardiner does not want John Williamson found."

Richard raised his brows in amusement. "Can I hear that again? The part where you said, 'I was right?'"

Darcy glared at his cousin. "I am serious, Richard. Gardiner promised Elizabeth he would tell her his history with Williamson _after_ he was found."

Darcy gave Richard a pointed look. "_After_, Richard. Elizabeth knows this man is directly connected to her mother so she wants answers as much as we do." From their conversation earlier today, Darcy knew how eager Elizabeth was to locate Williamson. He would do everything in his power to help her get her answers.

Darcy continued, "If what you say is correct, then I believe Gardiner is simply going through the motions of finding Williamson. He wants his secrets to remain hidden from Elizabeth."

Richard shook his head in disbelief. "Despite what I said to the contrary, I can't believe Gardiner would fabricate his reports in order to lie to his niece. What would be his purpose in doing so?"

Darcy stared at his cousin incredulously. "Didn't you hear what I said, Richard? Whatever secrets Gardiner is hiding is related to Elizabeth's mother. Gardiner did something, Richard, something that caused Elizabeth's mother to treat her daughter so horribly."

Richard looked at Darcy, a contemplative expression on his face. "Then maybe it would be best if he was not found."

"How can you say that?"

"Darcy," Richard held his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. "If what you say is true, would it not be better for Miss Elizabeth to remain ignorant of it? What purpose would it serve except to cause her undue stress and pain?"

Darcy glared at his cousin, slamming the papers on the desk. "So she knows she is not to blame for that woman's behavior! Do you have any idea, Richard, the pain and turmoil that woman has caused Elizabeth? Making her think she was worthless! Elizabeth has a right to know why her mother is the way she is so she can move past it and heal!"

Richard saw his cousin was resolute in his decision. "Well, then. Let's find this report."

An hour later, after reading and rereading Gardiners reports with a skeptical eye, it became blatantly obvious that Darcy's suspicions were confirmed. Gardiner had not been as methodical in his efforts to find John Williamson as he had led them to believe. Darcy's jaw tightened in anger at yet another deception perpetuated by Gardiner.

With this new information, Darcy was confident by the end of the week, Williamson would be located and his fears concerning Elizabeth's safety would finally be put to rest. And just in time. He didn't want anything to mar his future felicity with the woman he loved. He was done waiting. It was time to make her his.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Darcy suppressed a yawn as he strode down the hallway towards the music room, knowing he would find Georgiana there this time of day. After discovering Gardiners deception the night before, he had been unable to sleep. Finally drifting off before dawn, his brief rest had been disrupted with nightmares of Elizabeth being snatched from his embrace, disappearing from his sight. He had awakened, emotionally and physically exhausted. Needing a distraction from his troubled thoughts, he sought his sister's company. He knew he had neglected her lately with all the time he spent with Elizabeth; it was time to remedy that oversight.

As he neared the music room door, the beautiful strains from the pianoforte could be heard clearly. He smiled at the lively tune being played masterfully by his sister. He could always tell what mood Georgiana was in by the music she played.

Pushing open the door, he entered quietly so as not to disturb her. He watched from the doorway as she played, putting her whole soul into her music. She presented a lovely sight. The sun shone through the window behind her, bathing her in a halo of light, emphasizing her youth and innocence. It was difficult to admit that his sister was no longer a little girl, but a lovely young woman. To him, Georgiana would always be the inquisitive little girl who followed him around the halls of Pemberley, with her lively chatter and sunny attitude.

The music stopped abruptly as Georgiana spotted him. Smiling at her cheerful greeting, he walked towards her. "Good morning, Georgiana."

"This is an unexpected surprise, brother."

Darcy felt a pang of guilt. He used to listen to his sister practice nearly everyday. He hadn't realized it had been so long. He leaned down, kissing her forehead, tenderly.

"That was beautiful, Georgiana. It is good to see you so happy."

Georgiana smiled brightly. "Of course I am happy, Fitzwilliam. You are happy and I am to have a sister soon." She idly stroked the keys, a contemplative look on her face. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

Georgiana hesitated before saying in a rush, "I am so happy that you have found Lizzy, brother. It makes my heart glad to see you together and I couldn't ask for a better sister. But, I was wondering if I could possibly spend time with her. Alone. Just the two of us and Jane." Georgiana turned to her brother, a pleading look in her eyes, "Please?"

Darcy stared at his sister, mentally berating himself for his selfishness. Gently taking her by the arm, he led her over to the sofa, sitting beside her

"Of course, Georgiana. I should have known you wished to spend time with Elizabeth." He looked at his sister, remorsefully. "I have been selfish keeping her to myself. Forgive me, dearest."

"There is nothing to forgive, brother. I may not know what it is like to be in love, but I understand your need to be with her. I would like to get to know her better and with you constantly around..." she trailed off, looking accusingly at her brother.

Darcy laughed. "I understand. Just tell me when you would like to have her visit and I will be sure to vacate myself from the premises. I'll even take Richard with me."

Georgiana smiled slyly. "Good, because I want to ask Jane about my cousin." Her eyes brightened with excitement. "Richard is in love with Jane, isn't he?"

Darcy leveled a stern look at his sister. "Georgiana, I am not going to answer that. You should not force a confidence."

With conviction, she said, "He does. I just know it!" Georgiana hugged herself gleefully. "Not only will I gain Lizzy as a sister, but Jane as a cousin!" She laughed merrily. "Who would have thought our lives could change for the better in so short a time?"

"Georgiana," Darcy admonished. "Do not question Miss Bennet about Richard, it is inappropriate."

Georgiana smiled impishly. "We'll see."

Darcy shot a warning look at his sister, but she turned away to avoid his gaze, fidgeting with her dress. Changing the subject, he asked when she would like to invite Elizabeth and her sister to Darcy House.

"How about Thursday?"

Darcy raised his brows. "Thursday? Georgiana, are you really asking me to vacate my home on my birthday?" His eyes twinkled with amusement.

Georgiana blushed. "Well, I think it would be perfect. You can spend the day with Richard at White's or fencing or find a new horse or something." She waved her hand dismissively.

"Besides, I know that Lizzy has a gift for you, and it will be the perfect opportunity for her to bring it before your dinner that night." She raised her eyebrows. "It would not be appropriate for others to see an unmarried woman giving an unmarried man a gift, now would it?"

Darcy straightened, his mind reeling with the possibilities. Maybe he could come home early under some pretext and he could find an opportunity to be with Elizabeth alone...his pleasant scheming was interrupted by his sisters bright laughter.

Georgiana shook her head in amusement. That gleam in her brothers eye could only mean one thing. "I want you to promise me, Fitzwilliam that you will remain away from home all day. You may not return until two hours before everyone arrives for dinner."

Darcy raised his brows. "Georgiana, I want to be there when Elizabeth gives me her gifts. It would be impolite and ungentlemanly, otherwise." Darcy tried not to sound like a little boy being denied a treat. But, this would be the perfect opportunity...

"No."

Darcy scowled. "Georgiana," he warned.

Georgiana laughed. "You owe me this, brother. You have kept Lizzy all to yourself for too long."

Darcy conceded. She was right, he could forego one afternoon with Elizabeth. He would just have to make a few adjustments in his plan. "Very well." Ignoring his sister's animated expression, he continued, "On one condition."

Georgiana looked at her brother warily. "All right."

Darcy informed Georgiana of his condition. If she wanted him to stay away all day then she would have to help him with his plan. As he talked, he watched her expression go from confused to surprised, to elated. By the end, she was literally bouncing up and down, her hands covering her mouth, trying desperately not to shout for joy.

"You can count on me, brother!"

Darcy smiled contentedly. If all worked out according to plan, this would be a most memorable birthday.

"Thank you, Georgiana. Now, I believe you have an invitation to send?"

Georgiana smiled sheepishly. "I already have. I am just waiting on Lizzy and Jane's response."

Darcy narrowed his eyes. "What if I would have said no?"

Georgiana smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "I know you, brother. You would not deny me anything if I really wanted it."

"Hmmm, maybe I should change my mind..."

"You won't, brother. Not if you want my assistance with Lizzy. Your only other option is to enlist Richard's aid, and I don't need to tell you how that will turn out." Georgiana was triumphant. This was perfect! It would be extremely difficult to keep her brothers plans a secret from Lizzy, but she would.

Darcy sighed. "Very well. I promise to stay away all day. Now, is there anything else?" Darcy looked at his sister, an indulgent smile on his face.

Georgiana shook her head, sighing happily. "I can't wait until you marry Lizzy, brother. To think, I'll not only be gaining five sisters, but a mother and a father as well!"

Darcy stilled, indignant at his sisters erroneous presumption. Never. He would never allow Mrs Bennet near his precious sister. Her influence would not be welcomed or solicited.

"That will _never_ happen, Georgiana."

Georgiana stared, mouth agape at her brother's vehement response. "I don't understand you, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy took a deep breath. He had to treat this situation with delicacy. "Georgiana, I don't anticipate being around Elizabeth's mother very often after we marry."

"Why ever not!" Georgiana could not believe what her brother was saying. "Just because Elizabeth is not of our sphere, does not mean that we renounce her family. What of Lizzy! I can't imagine what she'll say when you inform her that she can no longer see her family!"

"Georgiana, you misunderstand. I said nothing of Elizabeth's sisters. I don't want you around her mother." Darcy was firm. Georgiana had to accept this.

"How can you be so unfeeling, Fitzwilliam!" Georgiana never thought her brother could be so proud and arrogant. "How can you deny Lizzy her mother?"

"She is not worth your tears, Georgiana, believe me." Darcy reached over, clasping his sisters hands. "It is not my place to say more. Please, just trust me, Georgiana. Elizabeth's mother is not someone I wish for you to associate with. And I am positive that Elizabeth would agree with me."

Georgiana yanked her hands out of her brothers firm grip. "Then you won't mind if I ask her myself?"

Darcy leveled a hard look at his sister and said, decisively, "I will not have you bring up a subject that is painful to Elizabeth, Georgiana." When she began to protest, he held up a hand. "Not another word, you will obey me in this. Do you understand?"

Georgiana nodded numbly. She swallowed thickly, close to tears. Why couldn't he understand what she longed for above all else?

Darcy stood, kissing her forehead. "Good day, Georgiana."

In a daze, Georgiana watched her brother leave the room. Unconsciously, she moved towards her pianoforte, seeking comfort. As she began playing, silent tears streamed unchecked down her pale face.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Elizabeth entered Hatchard's book shop, inhaling deeply the distinctive smell of books; a combination of leather and dust. Smiling, she nodded to the proprietor as she moved leisurely to one side to peruse the books on display. Shopping with her Aunt and Jane all morning had left her mentally exhausted. Needing a reprieve, she had asked to be excused from visiting the haberdashers.

Elizabeth idly wandered through the shop, pausing occasionally to peruse a particular book more closely. Although she was not here for a specific purpose, walking amongst new books never ceased to give her a thrill of anticipation. So many possibilities lay within the books lining the shelves. She sighed happily, casually thumbing through a history of Persia she had read several years previously.

Wandering to the back of the store, she found a treasure trove of books on ancient history she knew she had yet to read. She quickly became engrossed, allowing the pages to take her to another place and time. A sudden strident voice of a woman on the other side of the bookshelf caused her to start violently in surprise, almost dropping her book.

"All these dusty books. Why anyone would choose to spend time here, is beyond my comprehension."

Elizabeth bit her lip to keep from laughing. If the woman was so opposed to books, why was she in a bookshop? Shaking her head in amusement, she carefully moved a few books aside to see who was speaking. She noticed the woman's companion first, immediately noting a black mourning armband around the man's forearm. He was above average height, but not nearly as tall as Mr Darcy, with a head of curly, dark blonde hair. His back was to her, blocking her view of the woman with the caustic voice.

The man huffed in annoyance, "Really, Caroline. If you hate books so much, what are we doing here?"

"You know very well why we are here, Charles." The woman's voice dripped with condescension and disgust.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes as the two continued to argue in low voices. She wondered briefly if the couple were married or merely brother and sister, for it was obvious they must be related, based on their familiarity with one another. Embarrassed that she was eavesdropping, she turned back to her book, determined to ignore the quarreling couple. Their voices, however rose in volume and just as Elizabeth was about to make her presence known, she heard the man utter the name of Mr Darcy. Her head snapped up in surprise. Ignoring all pretense of blocking out their conversation, she shifted closer in order to hear what they were saying.

"I don't care what you say, Charles. This year it will be different. I will make Mr Darcy notice me. He likes to read, so I am going to start reading as well. Now, once again, tell me what are his interests? Does he like history? Poetry? I can't imagine he reads novels. A man of his understanding would not condescend to read such rubbish."

_You would be surprised_, Elizabeth thought with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. She knew for a fact that Mr Darcy did read novels. But he assured her it was only to approve of Georgiana's reading material.

"Caroline, I refuse to participate in this nonsense! I have informed you many times, that if Darcy has not shown an interest in you after nearly three years, then he won't."

The woman snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. He just doesn't know his own mind yet. I believe he is simply shy, which is why he hasn't declared himself."

Elizabeth huffed, wishing the man would shift so she could get a glimpse of this manipulative woman. Was every lady between the ages of 17 and 35 after _her_ Mr Darcy? _Who were they? _It was apparent they were well acquainted with Mr Darcy. A sudden possibility entered her mind. Could it possibly be...?

"You have accepted Mr Darcy's invitation for his birthday dinner on Thursday. That is when I will make it clear to him what _my_ intentions are. I am not going to wait any longer. He will have no choice but to declare himself."

The man sputtered, "You will do no such thing, Caroline! Or I will just leave you at home."

The woman sneered. "As if you could stop me, Charles." The woman's voice dropped to a low hiss. "I will get what I want."

Elizabeth sucked in a breath. This must be Mr Bingley and his sister! What a horrible woman! No wonder Mr Darcy stayed at his estate in Derbyshire for the majority of the year. She understood, if only to avoid Miss Caroline Bingley. Although, Georgiana mentioned that he invited Mr Bingley to his estate every August. Did that invitation include Miss Bingley as well? A sudden wave of jealousy swept over her, at the idea of _that woman_ being at Pemberley with _her_ Mr Darcy. A sudden ache pierced her heart. She shook her head, _stop being ridiculous, Elizabeth!_

She took a deep breath. Horrible woman or not, she couldn't continue to listen to a private conversation even if it was taking place in a very public place. Carefully replacing her book on the shelf, she turned to discreetly leave and ran straight into Mr Bingley.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" Elizabeth apologized, her face flushing red. Did he suspect she had been eavesdropping on his conversation?

Mr Bingley reached out to steady her before stepping back. "Not at all. It was my fault entirely. Are you hurt?"

Elizabeth looked up to reassure him and smiled. "Only my pride. I was not looking where I was going."

Miss Bingley approached, completely ignoring Elizabeth. Turning her back to Elizabeth she addressed her brother. "What about this one, Charles? I believe I remember Mr Darcy telling you he was interested in Botany."

Mr Bingley gave Elizabeth an apologetic look for his sister's rude behavior. Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders, turning to peruse a nearby shelf. As the siblings argued in a low voice, Elizabeth took the time to finally study the woman who had been so condescending to her brother and manipulative in her intent to pursue Mr Darcy.

She was tall, nearly as tall as her brother and extremely thin. Her hair was dark brown, arranged in an unflattering hairstyle that did little to detract from her thin lips and haughty brow. The mode of her dress caused Elizabeth's brow to raise in astonishment. She knew the Bingley's were in mourning due to their mother's passing. However, it was apparent Miss Bingley took a rather liberal view on mourning attire. Instead of wearing a gown of somber hue, her dress was a rather violent shade of burnt orange, accented with black lace. The overall result was jarring and garish; offensive to Elizabeth's sense of decorum. What could she mean by it? Did she have so little respect for her deceased mother? Even if she were only in half mourning, the gown would be considered inappropriate and immodest.

Mr Bingley approached Elizabeth as his sister, hissed, "Charles!"

Ignoring his sister, he gave Elizabeth an amiable smile. "I apologize again for running into you. Are you sure you are unhurt?"

"Yes, sir. I am quite well. I thank you."

Miss Bingley looked Elizabeth up and down, a condescending sneer on her face. "Please excuse us." Taking her brother by the arm, she attempted to lead him away but Mr Bingley would not be moved.

Removing his hat, he bowed, and said, "Mr Charles Bingley. Pleased to make your acquaintance. This is my sister, Miss Caroline Bingley." He looked at Elizabeth expectantly.

Elizabeth curtsied. "Miss Elizabeth Bennet. The pleasure is mine." She was right, this was the infamous Mr Bingley. Her lips twitched as she imagined a black moustache adorning his upper lip.

"Miss Bennet, you must forgive us but we have a prior engagement. Come Charles." With a scathing glance at Elizabeth, she tugged on her brother's arm.

Elizabeth felt her ire rise at Miss Bingley's rudeness. Who was this woman that treated others with such disdain? She knew nothing about Elizabeth, yet treated her as beneath her. Who did she think she was? It was blatantly obvious that she had a much too high opinion of herself.

Making a quick decision, she turned and addressed Miss Bingley. "I couldn't help overhearing your conversation earlier, Miss Bingley and I need to inform you that Mr Darcy does indeed read novels and he is not at all interested in Botany."

Mr Bingley stared at Elizabeth, mouth agape. "You are acquainted with Darcy?"

Ignoring, Miss Bingley's sputtering and fervent denials that she must be lying, Elizabeth smiled at Mr Bingley. "Yes, I am acquainted with the gentleman. I understand that you have recently lost your mother. Please accept my condolences on your loss."

Smiling sadly, Mr Bingley bowed his head. "I thank you for your kind words, Miss Bennet." He asked how she became acquainted with Mr Darcy.

"So you have known Mr Darcy for barely a month, Miss Bennet?" Miss Bingley raised her brow in obvious contempt. "With such a short acquaintance as you claim, I marvel at your presumption to know the literary tastes of that gentleman. No doubt you imagine your relationship to be more than it is?"

_If only you knew._"Not at all, Miss Bingley. My knowledge of Mr Darcy's tastes come from the gentleman himself."

Miss Bingley sniffed. "Well, I imagine you think some fifteen minute conversation in a ballroom makes you an expert on that gentleman's tastes." She eyed Elizabeth with derision.

Elizabeth took a deep breath. It was Lady Emily all over again. If she was going to endure an evening with this woman in a few days, she had to control her temper. Especially since this woman was the sister of Mr Darcy's good friend. The last thing she wished was to cause Mr Darcy discomfort on his birthday.

"I don't presume anything, Miss Bingley. I simply speak as I find."

Mr Bingley interrupted, giving his sister a warning look. "Well, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Bennet. I hope our paths cross again soon."

Elizabeth smiled. "Yes, I imagine we will meet very soon, Mr Bingley." She curtsied politely. "Good day to you both."

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief as she exited the book shop. She walked to the haberdashers with her faithful bodyguard trailing discreetly behind her, unaware of another pair of eyes watching her intently from the alleyway across the street.

A/N: Well, the Bingley's finally showed up - about time, huh? So, I have something special planned for Caroline *smiles deviously* but I am debating as to **who **should provide the set down. So I decided to let my readers decide! Should it be 1) Elizabeth, 2) Lady W, or 3) Jane? Let me know. Any one of the three could pull off what I have planned marvelously. Oh, I can't wait!

Please review! See you on Wednesday!

Much love,  
MAH


	26. Chapter 26

This chapter is dedicated to **Aphrodite in Disguise** in honor of her birthday tomorrow. Happy Birthday! She has some lovely stories posted, so head on over to her profile and give her some love for her birthday!

Chapter 25

Elizabeth sat silently across from Jane as they traveled to Darcy House to visit with Georgiana. Since her courtship with Mr Darcy, Elizabeth had not been able to have much private conversation with Georgiana, and she missed her young friend's happy optimism. In her invitation, Georgiana had mentioned that she would not allow any gentleman to intrude on their time together. When Elizabeth had teased Mr Darcy about his sisters invitation and how he felt being banished from his own home on his birthday, he had just smiled enigmatically.

Elizabeth's brow lowered as she thought of Mr Darcy's unusually reticent behavior the past few days. Following a lengthy conference with her Uncle and Colonel Fitzwilliam, he had emerged preoccupied and tense. He was still kind and solicitous, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere, his thoughts troubled. When pressed, he had looked at her for a moment before saying he was frustrated that John Williamson had not been located. She felt there was more he was not telling her, but decided not to press for further information. She understood Mr Darcy's frustration. No one wanted him found more than her. But she was willing to wait patiently for the answers her Uncle had promised.

Mr Darcy was not the only one who was exhibiting strange behavior. Since the conference with Mr Darcy, her Uncle had also been unusually preoccupied, avoiding everyone's company. Indeed, she had barely been in the same room as her Uncle except for meals. He never lingered over the dinner table, instead retreating immediately to his study where he would remain for the rest of the evening. She knew his behavior was particularly worrying her Aunt.

Elizabeth sighed. What disconcerted her the most was the sudden change in attitude Mr Darcy displayed towards her Uncle. Before, there had always been a mutual respect and understanding between the two gentlemen. Now, his behavior was cold, distant, and even resentful. She couldn't account for it, and it left her feeling uneasy.

The carriage pulled up to Darcy House, the sudden stop pulling Elizabeth from her troubled thoughts. She took a deep breath, determined to forget about everything weighing on her mind while she was with Georgiana. Today was for her, and Elizabeth was determined to focus all her attention on the young woman she hoped to one day soon call sister.

Georgiana led them to the music room, calling for tea to be brought in. As Georgiana and Jane exchanged pleasantries, Elizabeth studied her young friend. Despite Georgiana's cheerful demeanor, it was apparent that she was not quite herself. Her smile did not reach her eyes and there was an air of sadness and despondency that was unmistakable. What could be bothering her?

During a lull in the conversation, Elizabeth gave Georgiana the gifts she had brought for Mr Darcy.

Georgiana's expression brightened. "Oh, is this Fitzwilliam's gift?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, it is." She had been thankful for Georgiana's invitation as it provided the perfect opportunity to give him his gift away from prying eyes. Despite Mr Darcy's assurances that it was perfectly appropriate, Elizabeth still questioned the propriety of giving a man a gift who was not her betrothed. She wished she could present it to him in person, but she was grateful he would receive it today. She would just have to wait patiently until she saw him tonight for his reaction.

"Wonderful! I will put it in his study so he won't miss it when he comes home." Georgiana's eyes gleamed with a secretive light. She placed the gift carefully on the table beside her, looking at it with a small smile on her face. She sighed happily. "I can't wait until tonight."

Elizabeth smiled. "Yes, I am looking forward to it as well."

"Not as much as Fitzwilliam," Georgiana responded secretively.

Elizabeth looked at Georgiana in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Georgiana laughed merrily. "That, my dear Lizzy, is a surprise."

Jane laughed as Elizabeth wrinkled her nose in displeasure. Apparently, Georgiana's brother was not the only Darcy who loved surprises.

They began talking of the party that evening and the guests who were invited. Elizabeth shared with Georgiana her unexpected meeting with Mr Bingley and his sister.

"And what did you think of Miss Bingley?" Georgiana inquired eagerly.

Elizabeth took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. She didn't wish to speak ill of a friend of the Darcy family. "Well, she seemed rather..." Elizabeth paused, biting her lip, unable to think of a single positive attribute to say about that woman.

"Mercenary, cold, manipulative, crass?" Georgiana supplied helpfully, an uncharacteristic scowl on her face.

Jane coughed, hiding her unease. "I am sure she can't be as bad as you say. It is possible that she was just having a bad day."

Elizabeth shook her head in mild exasperation. Only sweet Jane would say such a thing. She could find something pleasant to say about everyone. But she would change her tune soon enough once she actually met her.

Georgiana gave an unladylike snort. "She is Jane, trust me. You forget I have known Miss Bingley for quite some time. She does not improve on closer acquaintance." She huffed, continuing, "She is always trying to get into my good graces, always fawning and making a fuss over me. It is really quite nauseating."

Jane gave Georgiana a sympathetic look. "Well, maybe she has difficulty interacting with people? Perhaps her behavior stems from being uncomfortable in company."

Elizabeth and Georgiana stared at Jane, mirror expressions of disbelief on their faces. They exchanged looks, bursting into laughter at their identical incredulous expressions.

Jane huffed. "Well, I don't think it's funny. I could be correct, you know."

Georgiana snorted. "Yes, and pigs fly."

Elizabeth stifled her laughter. "No doubt she thinks her effusive compliments will ingratiate herself to your brother, Georgiana."

Georgiana nodded her head in agreement. "It was apparent from their very first meeting three years ago at Pemberley that she wished for nothing more than to become its Mistress. She cares nothing for my brother, only his fortune, status, and estate."

Georgiana clasped Elizabeth's hand. "I am so grateful he has chosen you, Lizzy. I couldn't tolerate having a sister like Miss Bingley."

Elizabeth bit her lip, a contemplative expression on her face. "Do you think I should inform your brother of her intentions?"

Georgiana shook her head. "It's not necessary, Lizzy. Believe me, Fitzwilliam knows what that woman is about. He has successfully avoided her machinations for three years. Don't worry, he won't get caught in her web."

Elizabeth nodded, wishing she had found the right opportunity to tell Mr Darcy about her unexpected meeting with Mr Bingley and Miss Bingley. But with his preoccupation with John Williamson and her worry over his changed attitude towards her Uncle, it had not crossed her mind. Despite Georgiana's assurances, she couldn't help but feel that Miss Bingley had grown desperate and would try anything to secure her Mr Darcy.

Without warning, Georgiana turned to Jane and asked, bluntly, "What do you think of my cousin, Jane?"

Jane stared openmouthed at Georgiana, a becoming blush covering her face.

Elizabeth tried desperately to smother a laugh. Clearing her throat, she said, "Georgiana, it is not appropriate to ask such a thing."

Georgiana wrinkled her nose. "That's exactly what my brother said."

Elizabeth raised a brow. "Well, your brother would be right."

In a burst of feeling, Georgiana exclaimed, "I don't see why people can't simply be open and honest with their feelings. Life would be much less complicated!"

Elizabeth studied Georgiana, wondering if this had to do with her friends despondency. Could it be related to Mr Darcy's reticent behavior? "Georgiana, if something is troubling you, we will listen and help you if we can."

Jane nodded in agreement. "But only if you wish too confide in us, Georgiana."

Georgiana gazed at the two women she would soon call sister, her eyes filling with tears. How wonderful it would be to have them permanently in her life.

Seeing Georgiana's obvious distress, Elizabeth cried, "Why, Georgiana, whatever is the matter?"

"Oh, Lizzy! He doesn't understand, why can't he understand?"

"Your brother?" Elizabeth asked gently.

Georgiana nodded, wiping her eyes. She took a deep breath to calm her breathing. "Do you remember that afternoon after we visited the Menagerie when I wanted to ask a favor of you?"

"Yes, I do remember." How could she forget? Despite how that visit had ended rather abruptly, Elizabeth did remember Georgiana had wished to ask something. She had wondered why she had never broached the subject again.

Georgiana fidgeted with her dress nervously. "I still wish to ask a favor of you. I think you would be the best person to approach Fitzwilliam."

Elizabeth was conflicted. She wanted to help Georgiana, but at the same time, she didn't wish to interfere between Georgiana and Mr Darcy's relationship. They needed to talk and work it out amongst themselves.

Georgiana, seeing Elizabeth's inner struggle, pleaded, "Please, Lizzy? I don't know what else to do!"

Elizabeth sighed reluctantly. "Why don't you tell me what is bothering you and then I'll decide if I can be of help. Would that be sufficient?"

Georgiana nodded, twisting her dress in her hands. "It has to do with my mother." She looked up and met Elizabeth's eyes, her gaze hopeful.

"I see." Elizabeth knew what Georgiana wanted of her. Since her first visit to Darcy House all those weeks ago, she knew that Georgiana wished her brother would share memories of their mother. "You want me to ask your brother to tell you about your mother?"

Georgiana nodded eagerly. "Yes, please, Lizzy. He loves you so. I know he will deny you nothing if you ask him."

Elizabeth smiled. "Oh, Georgiana. He loves you as well. If he has not been forthcoming about sharing memories of your mother, I am sure it is for a very good reason. He doesn't do it to cause you pain."

"Oh, I know! But, I am not just asking this for me, but for my brother as well."

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked, puzzled.

Georgiana looked down. "I don't think Fitzwilliam has ever allowed himself to properly grieve for our mother. It's not that he's reluctant to talk about our mother, it's that he _can't._"

Elizabeth pondered Georgiana's revelation. Hadn't she wondered the very same thing? She recognized the long-held pain in his soul, for it mirrored her own; one grieving soul recognizing another. She didn't know if she could make a difference, but she would try. Not only for Georgiana's sake, but for Mr Darcy's as well. She understood what it was like to mourn for something that was lost. Didn't she grieve the loss of her mother's approval and acceptance?

Elizabeth took Georgiana's hand, squeezing it gently. "I don't know when or how, but I will try."

Georgiana smiled, joy infusing her face. Embracing Elizabeth, she whispered, "Thank you so much, Lizzy. I just know you will be able to help him move past this."

"If anyone can help your brother, Georgiana, Lizzy can." Jane offered with a gentle smile.

Georgiana turned to Elizabeth in surprise. "Have you lost someone, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth smiled sadly. "In a way, I suppose."

With a bewildered expression, Georgiana asked, "Who?"

"Not who, what." Elizabeth replied softly.

"I don't understand. What have you lost?"

Elizabeth shook her head, pushing down the sadness that still threatened to overwhelm her. "That doesn't matter, Georgiana. Just know that I understand a little about love and loss."

Georgiana opened her mouth to ask more but thought better of it. She wondered if Elizabeth's cryptic statement had to do with her parents. She wanted to ask Elizabeth and Jane about them, but her brother's admonition was still fresh in her mind. He had asked her to trust him. And she did, implicitly. Ignoring her desire to question her friends, she busied herself with preparing the tea while they talked of pleasanter topics.

Later that afternoon, after Elizabeth and Jane had left, Georgiana quietly entered her brother's study to deposit Elizabeth's gift. She placed it directly in the middle of his desk where he couldn't miss it. She smiled happily. That gift would bring about one of her deepest desires. A sister. As she turned to leave, she paused, considering briefly, before quickly penning a quick note.

_Brother, _

_Here are Lizzy's gifts. I want you to know that I followed your advice and didn't ask Lizzy about her parents.__I wanted to, desperately, but I trust you, Fitzwilliam.__I wish to speak more of this later.__Perhaps tomorrow? _

_I remain, your loving sister._

Georgiana re-read her note, placing it on top of Elizabeth's gift. She hated being at odds with her brother, he was all she had. Despite the loving care she received from her Aunt, Uncle and cousins, it was not the same. Fitzwilliam had been her whole world from the time her mother died; her father, too grief stricken to give her much love and attention. Fitzwilliam had been her rock, the one person she could rely on and trust completely. Well, she would trust him now.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Elizabeth's stomach was a bundle of nerves as she exited the carriage. Looking up at the imposing facade of Darcy House, she felt a combination of anticipation and dread.

Sensing her sister's unease, Jane whispered, "Don't worry, Lizzy. I'm sure Miss Bingley will behave herself."

Elizabeth snorted softly. "Jane, you will not make me think kindly of that woman. I heard what she said, and I know her intentions towards Mr Darcy. I am afraid of what I may do if she does anything untoward."

Jane pondered her sister's words before saying with conviction, "If what you say is true and she tries anything with your Mr Darcy, you won't have to do anything, because I will."

Elizabeth stared at her sister, a small smile on her face. Underneath Jane's reserved and serene demeanor lay a fierce protector who would defend anyone she loved, especially her sisters. Heaven help Miss Bingley if she meddled with the Bennet sisters.

"Besides," continued Jane, "Lady Worthington will be present. She has already proven a great help with Lady Emily. I doubt she'd hesitate to step in and put Miss Bingley in her proper place."

Elizabeth sighed. "You are right, Jane. I'm probably overreacting. Everything will turn out fine." She followed her Aunt, Uncle and Jane up the stairs.

Darcy waited impatiently in the Drawing Room for Elizabeth to arrive. He had missed her today, desperately, more than he thought possible. Richard had suggested they spend the morning at Angelo's (1) engaging in the gentlemanly sport of fencing. To relieve all that pent up energy, Richard said with a laugh. Darcy had quipped whether it was for his benefit or Richard's. But the exercise had proved beneficial, although it had not distracted him from thoughts of Elizabeth. Richard had grown increasingly exasperated as their match progressed, constantly yelling at him to get his head out of the clouds and engage. Despite Richard's haranguing, he had won nearly every match, much to his cousin's disgust.

Upon arriving home and spying Elizabeth's gift on his desk, his anticipation for the coming evening had escalated. The need to open it had been overwhelming, but the anticipation of opening it with her present, alone, was more than enough inducement to forbear. He smiled to himself. Everything was going according to plan.

Richard approached, pulling Darcy from his pleasant thoughts. "Stop hovering by the door, cousin. It won't make her arrive any sooner."

Darcy cleared his throat. "If I'm not mistaken, Richard. You are hovering as well."

Richard straightened, flushing. "Yes, but at least I'm being discreet about it."

Darcy raised his brows. "Well, maybe you would do well to be _less _discreet, Richard."

Richard looked at his cousin, understanding his meaning. He sighed. "Perhaps you're right, Darcy."

Darcy smiled knowingly. "Of course I'm right. I don't know what you're waiting for, Richard. You've made up your mind, haven't you?"

Richard clasped his hands behind his back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Nearly."

Darcy rolled his eyes at his cousin's thick-headedness. "With your indecisiveness it's astounding you have been so successful in His Majesty's Army."

Richard snorted. "That is entirely different, Darcy. In many ways I would much rather face Napoleon's finest than declare myself to a woman."

"Courage, Richard. The benefits far outweigh the risks."

"Says the man who has yet to declare himself to the woman he loves," Richard replied with a smirk.

Darcy smiled mysteriously, glancing at his cousin. "Not for much longer."

Richard stared at Darcy, his mouth slightly agape. "Tonight?"

Darcy sighed contentedly. "Tonight."

Richard slapped Darcy on the back. "Well, it's about time!"

Darcy shot an amused look at his cousin. "Perhaps you should follow my lead, Richard."

Richard blanched, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "Much too soon for that, Darcy."

Darcy shook his head in amusement. Richard had best make up his mind, soon. He knew with almost complete certainty that his friend Bingley would likely take an interest in the eldest Miss Bennet. He would hate for Richard to lose his chance with her if he delayed declaring his intentions. Although, maybe a little friendly competition would cause Richard to finally find his courage and act.

Lady Eleanor approached, a reproving smile on her face. "Boys, stop hovering. It is unseemly for a gentleman to appear too eager."

Richard snorted as Darcy coughed. "Thank you again, Aunt for playing hostess this evening."

Lady Eleanor patted Darcy's arm maternally. "Not at all, Darcy. You know I am always happy to do so." With a knowing smile, she added, "Although, I suspect this may be the last time?"

Darcy smiled enigmatically. "Perhaps."

Lady Eleanor smiled happily. "Well, it's about time!"

Richard laughed, winking at his mother. "My thoughts exactly, mother."

Darcy opened his mouth to reply when the Gardiners and their nieces were announced. He immediately straightened, adjusting his evening jacket.

"You look dashing, now stop fidgeting." Richard whispered, amused.

Darcy shot an annoyed look at his cousin before moving forward to greet the first of his guests. He was grateful he had thought to have them arrive earlier, knowing he needed to be with Elizabeth for a few moments without Miss Bingley's unwelcome interference.

He greeted Mrs Gardiner and Miss Bennet cordially, before turning to Gardiner and giving him a curt nod. "Gardiner."

The necessary greetings over, Darcy turned to stare at the woman he loved, silently drinking in her beauty. Elizabeth was resplendent, dressed in an ivory gown that complimented her perfectly. Remembering his manners, he bowed, bringing her hand to his lips for a kiss. "Good evening, Miss Elizabeth. You look beautiful tonight."

Elizabeth curtsied, blushing in pleasure at Mr Darcy's compliment. "Good evening, Mr Darcy. May I wish you a very happy birthday?"

Darcy smiled, placing her hand in the crook of his elbow. "Thank you, Miss Elizabeth." In a low voice he leaned in and whispered, "I missed you today."

Elizabeth's heart beat increased at his nearness. Without thinking, she answered, "I missed you as well." Blushing at her forwardness, she turned away in embarrassment.

Darcy's heart swelled with happiness at Elizabeth's honest admission. "Don't make yourself uneasy, Miss Elizabeth. I want you to be truthful with me, always."

Elizabeth nodded. Looking up at Mr Darcy, she teased, "So I am still _Miss_ Elizabeth? Am I to assume that you haven't opened my gifts, Mr Darcy?"

Darcy smiled, shaking his head. "No, not yet." He turned, giving Elizabeth a significant look. "By the end of the evening, you will be Elizabeth once again."

Elizabeth's breath caught at the unspoken vow in Mr Darcy's gaze. "Is that a promise, Mr Darcy?"

Holding Elizabeth's gaze, Darcy answered, "It's a certainty."

Darcy led Elizabeth to his Aunt and Uncle. As they spoke, he looked around the room for Georgiana. He hadn't had a chance to speak with her after retuning home. He was grateful she had taken his advice about Elizabeth's parents. Seeing her with Richard and Miss Bennet, he silently motioned for her to join them.

As Georgiana approached, Elizabeth turned and smiled. "You look lovely, Georgiana." Noticing the fine string of pearls around her friends neck, she leaned closer. "Those are so beautiful. You wore these the night at the Opera, if I'm not mistaken."

Georgiana beamed. "Thank you, Lizzy. Yes, I did. Fitzwilliam gave them to me, they were my mother's." She gave Elizabeth a pointed look, glancing up at her brother.

Darcy cleared his throat. "If you'll excuse me, I need to speak with my sister for a moment." Taking his sister gently by the arm, he led her away.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Darcy spoke. "Thank you for your note, Georgiana."

Georgiana smiled shyly. "You're welcome, brother." Hesitantly, she added, "Can we speak more tomorrow? I don't want to distract you from Lizzy."

"You're never a distraction, dearest. Of course we may speak tomorrow."

Georgiana sighed happily, suddenly all was right in her world. "Thank you." With a mischievous smile, she added, "Besides, I'll want a full account of your private meeting with Lizzy later tonight."

Darcy shot a severe look at his sister. "A gentleman does not kiss and tell, Georgiana."

Georgiana's lit up with excitement. "You're going to kiss her?"

Darcy groaned inaudibly. "That is enough. Off with you."

As Georgiana left, Darcy turned to seek out Elizabeth in time to see her eyes light up with pleasure as Fletcher announced Lord and Lady Worthington.

Darcy greeted Lord and Lady Worthington, thinking how expressive his Elizabeth's eyes were. His mind drifted to his plans for the evening. Only a few more hours...

"I say, Darcy. Did you hear me?"

Darcy stared at Lord Worthington blankly. He noticed Lady Worthington looking at him with amusement, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Oh, leave him alone, dear. Mr Darcy has much more pleasant things to think about than your ramblings. Speaking of which, where is Miss Elizabeth?"

Darcy cleared his throat. "Right this way."

Elizabeth greeted Lady Worthington with a warm smile. Darcy watched in amusement as Lord Worthington raised his quizzing glass, staring unabashedly at Elizabeth, a congenial smile on his face.

Rocking back and forth on his toes, Lord Worthington exclaimed, "Well, well. I see you were not lying, my dear. She is quite the most lovely creature I've ever beheld." Turning to Darcy, he winked. "You have done well for yourself, Darcy. If I were only thirty years younger..."

Lady Worthington snorted, shooting her husband an amused look. "And me, Roger? Would you simply toss me out like an old shoe?"

"Never, my dear," Lord Worthington responded with an loving smile. "Just being polite, you know."

Elizabeth smiled, amused at the obvious affection displayed between Lord and Lady Worthington. As they conversed, she took the opportunity to study Lord Worthington with interest. He was of medium stature and build and dressed impeccably, which surprised her. As Lady Worthington was so outrageous in her dress, she assumed her husband would be as well. He had an abundance of white hair, a prominent patrician nose, bushy black eyebrows resting above intelligent, piercing green eyes. His demeanor was intimidating and imposing, belied by the sparkle of good humor evident in his gaze. Here was a man who relished the ridiculous in himself and others. Elizabeth liked him immediately.

"Do I meet with your approval, my dear girl?"

Elizabeth flushed, embarrassed her perusal had been so obvious. She met Lord Worthington's eyes, his gaze warm with amusement. Raising her brow, she replied with confidence, "Indeed, you do my Lord."

Lord Worthington laughed, delighted. "I am glad of it. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance. I feel I already know you, my dear wife has spoken of you so highly."

"The pleasure is mine, my Lord."

Darcy grew increasingly tense as he conversed with his guests, eyeing the clock with dread. He was not surprised Bingley and his sister were late as Miss Bingley loved to make a dramatic entrance, knowing all eyes would be on her. He glanced at Elizabeth as she laughed at something Lady Worthington said. Should he warn her? He was used to Miss Bingley's effusive behavior, especially towards himself, and he didn't want to give Elizabeth the idea that he welcomed her attentions. He had long ago given up on convincing Bingley to rein in his sister. Each year, he hoped she would retract her claws, moving on to another victim.

Elizabeth glanced up at Mr Darcy, smiling. Her smile faded as she beheld the expression on his face; closed, distant, uncomfortable. As he met her eyes, his gaze softened. She raised a brow in silent inquiry.

Darcy gave Elizabeth a soft smile, impulsively bringing her hand to his lips for a kiss. A becoming blush covered Elizabeth's face, her eyes bright with happiness.

His attention was diverted by Fletcher's entrance, announcing his final guests of the evening. Darcy exchanged a weighted look with Richard across the room before directing his attention to the door. Bingley entered, a harried expression on his face, followed closely by his sister. Darcy's eyes widened in disbelief at Miss Bingley's appearance. Although, the customary six months mourning was completed, it was still assumed that grieving children would remain in half-mourning for at least another half year. Miss Bingley was obviously not following that custom. She was dressed in the most unbecoming, immodest dress of bright violet he had ever had the misfortune to see.

Elizabeth gasped slightly at Miss Bingley's overt display of her...assets. She turned away, embarrassed only to meet the wide eyed stare of her sister, her face a bright red.

Lord Worthington held up his quizzing glass, examining Miss Bingley with curiosity. "Good heavens, has the circus arrived?"

Lady Worthington shushed her husband, turning disapproving eyes on Miss Bingley. She shook her head, muttering to Elizabeth, "No taste whatsoever." Leaning in closer, she asked softly, "How does Mr Darcy know this woman?"

"She is the sister of his good friend, Mr Bingley."

Lady Worthington snorted. "No doubt using her brother to become closer to our Mr Darcy, eh?"

Elizabeth merely nodded her head.

Lady Worthington patted Elizabeth's hand. "Don't worry, my dear. I've seen her like before. She's nothing but a vulgar mushroom."

Elizabeth stifled her laughter, coughing lightly, turning to share an amused look with her sister.

As soon as Darcy approached and greeted Bingley, Miss Bingley latched onto his arm, smiling up at him. Darcy gritted his teeth, attempting to distance himself as much as possible. He met Bingley's mortified gaze with a cold one of his own. As Miss Bingley moved closer to his side, he forcibly disengaged her arm.

Ignoring her affronted expression, he bowed. "Miss Bingley, I hope you are well?"

"Oh, Mr Darcy! How kind of you to ask. I have been quite desolate. Poor mama, you know."

"Yes, I offer my condolences to you, Miss Bingley." Darcy spoke dispassionately. Desolate indeed. Her mode of dress clearly indicated just how desolate she was. Desperate would be a better word. Darcy's gaze sought Elizabeth's, needing to see her warm smile and beautiful face.

Miss Bingley followed Mr Darcy's gaze, gasping when she saw the hussy from the bookstore who had forced her acquaintance on her gullible brother. Her eyes narrowed as she saw Mr Darcy, her Mr Darcy stare openly at the brazen hussy. She squared her shoulders, prepared to show this imposter just how insignificant she was.

Darcy led Bingley to Elizabeth, eager to introduce his friend; Miss Bingley trailing behind them.

"Why, Miss Bennet! How wonderful to see you again." Bingley bowed to Elizabeth, an amiable smile lighting his face.

Elizabeth curtsied. "It is good to see you again, Mr Bingley, Miss Bingley."

Darcy stared at Bingley. "You have met, Miss Elizabeth?" Darcy looked at Elizabeth in astonishment.

Miss Bingley sneered. "Oh yes, she stumbled on us at Hatchard's on Tuesday. Literally ran into my brother."

Bingley flushed. "I ran into her, Caroline. And it was an accident." He turned to Elizabeth with a wide smile. "What a coincidence to see you here, Miss Bennet."

Darcy gazed at Elizabeth warmly. "Not a coincidence at all, Bingley. And Miss Bennet is Miss Elizabeth's elder sister." Darcy gestured towards Miss Bennet and his cousin.

Elizabeth watched in amusement as Bingley's eyes widened in admiration as he saw her sister.

Bingley leaned in and whispered, "Introduce me, Darcy."

Darcy made the introductions and spent the next ten minutes watching as Bingley conversed with Miss Bennet, a mesmerized expression on his face while Richard glowered silently nearby.

Darcy breathed a sigh of relief when dinner was finally announced. He looked for his Aunt to escort her into the dining room when he felt someone grasp his arm in a vice like grip. Looking down, he had to refrain from glaring at Miss Bingley clinging to his arm with a strength that belied her bony frame.

Darcy cleared his throat. "Forgive me, Miss Bingley, but I am to escort my Aunt. If you'll excuse me." He attempted to extricate his arm, but she held on.

She leaned in, whispering, "Don't be ridiculous, Mr Darcy. No need to stand on ceremony. This is an informal affair after all, we are amongst family." With a sneer towards Elizabeth and Jane, she continued, "Except for a few unwelcome interlopers."

Darcy's jaw tightened in anger at her slight of Elizabeth and her sister. "They are friends, Miss Bingley. I invited them here."

"Of course," she responded hastily. "I meant no offense."

Darcy refrained from rolling his eyes. He glanced at his arm, pointedly. "Now, if you'll excuse me?"

With a displeased expression, Miss Bingley reluctantly relinquished Darcy's arm.

As Darcy approached his Aunt, she bestowed a sympathetic look. She said softly, "I have placed Miss Bingley no where near you, so you will be free from her attentions, at least through dinner."

"Thank you, Aunt. Do I dare hope you have placed Miss Elizabeth next to me?"

Lady Eleanor smiled secretively. "Perhaps."

With a satisfied smile, Darcy led his Aunt into the dining room.

Elizabeth smiled as she took Mr Bingley's proffered arm to lead her into the dining room, the last to enter. She smiled in amusement as she watched Mr Bingley gaze longingly after her sister who preceded them on the arm of her Uncle. Mr Bingley turned to Elizabeth with a smile, "Shall we?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Charles. She is quite capable of walking on her own volition." Miss Bingley glared at Elizabeth, forcibly inserting herself to take her brother's arm instead, cutting her off. Miss Bingley refused to enter a dining room unescorted, let alone very last.

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed in anger at Miss Bingley's highhanded behavior. Swallowing back an angry retort, she said calmly, "You are quite right, Miss Bingley. However, your brother was just performing his gentlemanly duty. "

"Yes, Caroline. I think I can handle escorting two beautiful women to dinner." Mr Bingley again offered his arm to Elizabeth, his smile tense.

Before Elizabeth could take his arm, Miss Bingley practically dragged her brother forward, leaving Elizabeth to enter unescorted and last. Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth followed behind Mr Bingley and that viper he called a sister, entering the dining room with her head held high.

Elizabeth paused at the threshold, her eyes widening in delight at the impressive display before her. Crystal chandeliers hung over a stunning table set with the finest linen, crystal and china. Several tasteful centerpieces of flowers were interspersed the length of the table. Elizabeth blushed as she noticed the center flower display was an impressive array of white and red tulips.

Due to their delay in entering the dining room, everyone was already seated except for Mr Bingley, Miss Bingley and herself. Glancing around the large dining room table, she noted the three vacant places. One to the left of Mr Darcy, one between her Aunt and Jane, and one between Georgiana and her Uncle. Mr Darcy looked up, meeting her eye. He frowned as he saw her by herself and she shrugged, a small smile on her face. He raised his brows, discreetly pointing to the seat next to him. Smiling, she made her way slowly to Mr Darcy to take her place by his side.

Elizabeth passed Mr Bingley as he pulled out a chair for his sister. Miss Bingley, however, ignored her brother, walking past him quickly to take Elizabeth's seat at Mr Darcy's side.

Elizabeth froze, meeting Mr Darcy's incredulous gaze. He turned and glared at Miss Bingley and Elizabeth was afraid for one brief moment that he would forcibly remove Miss Bingley from her seat. Not wishing to make a scene and ruin Mr Darcy's birthday, she turned, quickly taking the seat that Mr Bingley had pulled out for his sister.

Elizabeth forced a smile on her face. "Thank you, Mr Bingley."

Mr Bingley gaped at her for a moment, glancing between her and his sister, his brow darkening. Leaning down, he whispered, "Please pardon my sister, Miss Elizabeth."

"It is already forgot, Mr Bingley. Don't worry, I am perfectly fine sitting here." Elizabeth smiled reassuringly at Mr Bingley.

As soon as Mr Bingley left to take his seat between her Aunt and Jane, Georgiana leaned over and whispered angrily, "I can't believe she did that, Lizzy! Oh, I wish I could speak my mind and tell her what I really think of her!"

Elizabeth wished she could as well. She sighed. "Well, look on the bright side, Georgiana. At least you don't have to suffer through her company at the dinner table."

Georgiana brightened considerably. "That is true. Although I will feel guilty enjoying your company when my brother has to endure Miss Bingley."

As the meal progressed, Elizabeth was able to relax slightly and enjoy herself. Her Uncle was uncharacteristically silent, so she spent the majority of her time conversing with Georgiana. Her pleasure decreased as Mr Darcy's expression became more forbidding as the dinner progressed. She tried to ignore Miss Bingley's grating laughter and her constant touches to his hand. At one point, she could have sworn she saw Miss Bingley pet his arm. She gritted her teeth and endured Miss Bingley's fawning attentions to _her_ Mr Darcy.

Darcy was in hell. He had never before lamented that he was a gentleman. But he wished for once in his life to cast off that title and throw the woman out. He listened stonily to Miss Bingley's continuous praise. She praised him on his choice of soup, the way he cut his meat, the table setting, the flowers. He had to bite his tongue when she suggested that he choose tulips because they were her favorite flowers. Fortunately, he was able to ignore Miss Bingley with a few well placed nods and noncommittal grunts.

Richard's amused expression every time he met Darcy's gaze did make his plight any easier. It only caused his mien to darken further, faster. During the last course, Miss Bingley seemed to have run out of steam. Apparently, there was a limit to her ability to carry on a one-sided conversation. Darcy was enjoying the welcome reprieve for however long it lasted when it happened. Just as he raised his glass to take a drink, Miss Bingley lowered her hand under the table to squeeze his leg, just above his knee. Darcy choked, quickly lowering his glass before he dropped it. He brought his napkin to his mouth, desperately trying to control his coughing. The audacity of the woman! Darcy dropped all pretense and glared at Miss Bingley, satisfied when she wilted visibly, quickly removing her hand from his person.

In a low voice, he hissed, "You forget yourself, madam. Kindly desist from such unladylike behavior."

Darcy raised his eyes to see Elizabeth looking back and forth between him and Miss Bingley, a puzzled expression on her face. When she met his gaze, he smiled. Soon this forgettable dinner would be finished and he would be with Elizabeth. Alone. He felt his heart rate speed up at the mere thought. He glanced around the table to determine how soon his Aunt could excuse the ladies from the table. His countenance brightened as he realized that everyone was done eating. He sighed in relief. He glanced down at the foot of the table to see his Uncle standing, lightly clinking his glass to gain everyone's attention. He stifled a groan.

Next to him, Lady Worthington smiled. "Can't forgo the birthday toasts, Mr Darcy."

Darcy forced a smile on his face as his Uncle, followed by each male at the dinner table stood and offered a toast for the coming year.

When Richard stood, he gazed at Darcy for a moment with a small smile and said simply, "May the coming year bring your hearts desire." He glanced at Elizabeth as he said it, smiling widely as she blushed.

Finally, his Aunt stood, signaling for the ladies to depart. Darcy gave his sister a pointed look as she left.

Georgiana smiled widely as she followed Elizabeth out of the dining room, a bounce to her step. As she entered the drawing room, she glanced at the clock to note the time. Ten minutes. Her brother had said to contrive a reason for her and Elizabeth to leave the Drawing room after ten minutes. She took a seat next to Elizabeth and her sister, dismayed when Miss Bingley took the seat next to her.

Georgiana became increasingly uncomfortable at Miss Bingley's continued praises. How often did the woman think she had to praise her skills on the pianoforte? Thankfully, Elizabeth and Jane steered the conversation towards safer topics and they had a thoroughly unenlightening conversation, provided by Miss Bingley on the current fashions.

Georgiana shared a look of commiseration with Elizabeth as Miss Bingley condescendingly informed them that white and pale colors were 'out' and extremely outdated. She sneered at Elizabeth's ivory gown and Jane's pale pink gown.

With a toss of her head, Georgiana replied, "So, my pale yellow gown is not fashionable, Miss Bingley?"

Miss Bingley patted Georgiana's knee and with a patronizing smile replied, "Not at all, Miss Darcy. As you are not out, it doesn't apply to you, dear." With a scathing glance at Elizabeth and Jane she continued, "You, however have no excuse."

Georgiana shook her head. Despite Miss Bingley's blatant, hurtful remarks, it did not seem to be affecting her friends in the least. Georgiana glanced at the clock, horrified to see that more than ten minutes had passed.

Quickly turning to Elizabeth, she asked, "I wonder if you would assist me, Lizzy?"

"I would be happy to help you, Miss Darcy. No need to ask those not of your close acquaintance." Miss Bingley looked down her nose at Elizabeth and Jane.

Georgiana stood, reaching over to pull Elizabeth to her feet. "I'm sorry, but I need Lizzy's particular assistance, Miss Bingley." Giving a quick curtsey, she excused herself. Grasping Elizabeth by the hand, she pulled her towards the door.

"Where are you two going in such a hurry?"

Georgiana groaned at her Aunt's untimely delay. "I need Lizzy's assistance. We will return momentarily." Not waiting for a reply, she continued her course, dragging Elizabeth by the hand.

Elizabeth laughed. "Georgiana, where are you taking me?"

Georgiana glanced over her shoulder at Elizabeth, a mischievous smile on her face. "You'll see."

Georgiana entered the library, quickly walking to the connecting door leading to her brother's study. She knocked firmly and waited.

Immediately the door opened. "You're late."

Georgiana huffed, pushing Elizabeth towards the open door. "Miss Bingley," she offered as explanation. "I'll wait here, brother." As the door closed, Georgiana couldn't repress an excited squeal from escaping.

Elizabeth found herself being unceremoniously pulled into Mr Darcy's study. Without releasing her hand, Mr Darcy closed the connecting door, turning to gaze at her, an unfathomable expression on his face. Elizabeth's heart rate picked up as his hand tightened around hers. Wordlessly, he led her to the sofa. As Elizabeth sat, Mr Darcy turned and picked up something from his desk.

Darcy sat next to Elizabeth, close enough that their knees were touching. _Not nearly close enough. _ With a soft smile, he explained, "I thought you would like to be present when I opened your gifts."

Elizabeth smiled, her heart pounding. "Yes, I would like that." She was alone. With Mr Darcy. In his study. She discreetly glanced around at his inner sanctum, surprised at how familiar it seemed. She realized that it was very similar to her Uncles study. The thought made her relax slightly.

"Which one would you like me to open first?"

Elizabeth reached over, and with a trembling hand touched the larger of the two. "This one."

Darcy quickly unwrapped the gift, knowing by its size and weight that it was a book. As he held up the book and read the title, he burst out laughing. Turning to Elizabeth, he smiled widely, his eyes lighting up with pleasure. "I thought you said I must already have this book in my possession, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat at Mr Darcy's blinding smile, suddenly feeling very warm. She looked away, blushing at her reaction. Shakily she responded, "A gentleman can never have too many copies, Mr Darcy." She raised a brow. "Don't you agree?"

"Yes, I suppose so." Darcy laid _A Gentleman's Book of Etiquette:__Rules for Perfect Conduct_ to the side, eagerly picking up the smaller package, knowing Elizabeth had made it for him. He lightly fingered the ribbon, looking up to meet Elizabeth's uncertain gaze.

Elizabeth licked her lips nervously. What if he didn't like it? She took a deep breath, meeting his gaze. She smiled, suddenly uncertain. She hoped she hadn't made a mistake. She could always unpick the embellishment if he didn't like it.

Darcy carefully untied the ribbon and laying it aside, he opened the wrapping. He stared at what was obviously a handkerchief. Picking it up to get a better look at his initials, two other handkerchiefs fell to the floor. He quickly picked them up, noticing one of them had something else on the corner with his initials.

Darcy froze as he gazed at the three small flowers perfectly embroidered under his initials. Forget-Me-Not's. _How did she know? _

Elizabeth's heart dropped at Mr Darcy expression as he saw the flowers she had painstakingly embroidered on one of the handkerchiefs. "I can unpick the flowers, Mr Darcy. I know it is not customary for gentleman to carry handkerchiefs with such embellishments. If you would like..." Elizabeth's rambling cut off as Mr Darcy reached over and placed his hand over hers.

"It's perfect, Miss Elizabeth," he whispered. Raising his head, he met her tentative gaze with a pained one of his own. Taking her hand in his, he lightly rubbed circles with his thumb, more for his comfort than hers. In a strangled whisper, he asked, "How did you know?"

Elizabeth's brow lowered in confusion. "I don't understand, Mr Darcy. How did I know what?"

Darcy straightened, his gaze unseeing as he gazed at the flowers in his lap. His mind was flooded with memories, pleasant, happy memories of a happier time, before...He closed his eyes as pain lanced through his heart.

"Mr Darcy?" Elizabeth's hesitant voice brought him back to the present.

"I'm sorry, Miss Elizabeth. Forgive me."

Elizabeth shook her head, more confused than ever. "I am sorry it you don't like it, Mr Darcy. I decided to embroider the flowers because they have always been my favorite wild flower." Elizabeth took a deep breath, "They also happen to be the flower of my birth month, September." Elizabeth knew she was rambling, but she was confused by Mr Darcy's demeanor. He seemed lost in another world, his gaze distant. "I can unpick the flowers, Mr Darcy," she repeated softly.

Darcy raised his head. Taking a deep breath, he said, "No. It is perfect, Miss Elizabeth. I was just surprised." With an unsteady voice, he continued, "I also love Forget-Me-Not's and they grow plentifully near Pemberley. Every spring, when they first bloomed, I would take some to my mother. It became a yearly ritual. She always said spring didn't come until I had given her the first of the Forget-Me-Not's."

Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears at the sadness in his voice. "I'm sorry if I have caused you to remember something painful, Mr Darcy. Believe me, it was not my intention."

Darcy looked at Elizabeth, remorse evident on her face. He berated himself for making her think she was at fault. Reaching over, he tenderly wiped a stray tear from her face. "You have done nothing wrong, Elizabeth. I said it was perfect and it is." He infused all the love and appreciation he felt as he said with heartfelt sincerity, "Thank you."

Elizabeth trembled under Mr Darcy's gaze, conscious that his hand still cupped her cheek tenderly. She leaned into his touch slightly, closing her eyes in contentment. She suddenly realized that she was very much alone with Mr Darcy, in his home, with her Aunt and Uncle down the hall, along with several other of his guests. Her eyes snapped open, sitting up quickly. She felt bereft when Mr Darcy's hand dropped away from her face.

Blushing furiously, Elizabeth looked around for a distraction. Spying the book lying next to Mr Darcy, she held out her hand. At Mr Darcy's questioning look, she smiled. "If you hand me your book, Mr Darcy, I will make sure it finds a proper home."

Wordlessly, Darcy handed Elizabeth the book, feeling lost when she got up and moved away. Without conscious thought he stood, moving closer to where she perused his favorite books. He watched her graceful movements, noting the elegant line of her neck as she turned her head to read the titles on the bookshelf. He slowly moved closer, pausing directly behind her.

Elizabeth took deep breaths as she walked unsteadily towards Mr Darcy's bookshelf. She stared unseeing at the books in front of her. Shaking her head slightly, she tilted her head to read the titles. She smiled, triumphant. "I think I have found the proper place, Mr Darcy. This particular book will find its home between Homer and Ovid." Elizabeth carefully inserted the book.

Elizabeth fingered Mr Darcy's books, saying with reluctance, "I believe it is time to return to your guests, they must be lamenting your absence..." Elizabeth turned, jumping slightly as she came face to face with Mr Darcy. Her eyes widened at his nearness, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.

Darcy gazed intensely at Elizabeth, reaching out to lightly trace her face, his fingers brushing her lips gently. He noted the rapid rise and fall of her chest, her unsteady breathing, and heightened color. His gaze traveled to her mouth, smiling when he heard her quick intake of breath.

"Don't you agree with me, Mr Darcy?" Elizabeth forced herself to keep breathing, trying to still the rapid beating of her heart.

"Agree with what, Miss Elizabeth?" Darcy was amused at Elizabeth's attempt to stay calm.

"That it's time to return to your guests."

Slowly, Darcy shook his head, moving closer, his eyes boring into hers with warm intensity. "The ladies think that you are with my sister, and the men think I am trying to locate a misplaced bottle of fine French brandy."

Elizabeth swallowed as Mr Darcy moved closer, his face inches from hers. "Wh-what are you doing?"

Darcy raised his brows in amusement. "What do you think I'm doing, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Miss Elizabeth? I believe you mean Elizabeth, Mr Darcy. You have received your gifts."

Darcy leaned back slightly, smiling. "I don't believe I have, _Miss_ Elizabeth."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "You said when you received your gifts, you would call me Elizabeth. Well, you have received your gifts, Mr Darcy." _Be quiet, Elizabeth!_ Why was she rambling on like a simpleton?

Darcy smiled widely. "I said when I got what I wanted, Miss Elizabeth. Not when I opened your gifts." He slowly raised his arms, placing his hands on the bookshelf behind her, trapping Elizabeth between his arms. Lowering his head, he leaned down, whispering in her ear, "And what I want, Miss Elizabeth is a kiss."

Elizabeth gasped, leaning back against the bookshelf, feeling it dig into her back. She welcomed the pain as she was sure she was going to faint at any moment. Breathlessly, she responded, "Greedy today, aren't we, Mr Darcy?"

Darcy smiled, skimming his nose against Elizabeth's soft cheek, breathing in her Jasmine scent. "It is my birthday, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth closed her eyes as she felt Mr Darcy move closer, his chest nearly touching hers. She brought a hand up to rest against his chest, feeling his rapid heart beat underneath her palm. She whispered, "You receive gifts on your birthday, Mr Darcy. You don't take them."

Darcy paused, pulling away slightly so he could see Elizabeth's face. He frowned. "Then what do you suggest, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth stared at Mr Darcy, her gaze moving to his lips, a sudden idea forming in her mind. Could she do it? What would he think of her? Before she could over think it, she raised up slightly on her toes, bringing her lips to his. As their lips met, she closed her eyes, letting the incredible sensation wash over her. His lips were so soft, so warm. This was bliss.

Elizabeth broke the kiss, suddenly aware that he had not reciprocated. She whispered, breathlessly, "Happy birthday, Fitzwilliam." Blushing furiously at her brazen behavior, she ducked underneath Mr Darcy's arm, walking rapidly towards the connecting door.

Darcy froze, stunned. Had that really just happened? He lightly touched his lips, still warm from Elizabeth's gentle touch. His eyes widened as his brain processed that indescribable moment. Elizabeth had just kissed him.

Darcy snapped out of his daze, and cried out with desperation, "Elizabeth! wait!" His feet moved of their own volition to stop her from leaving. Elizabeth had kissed him! But why was she running away?

He reached the connecting door, just as Elizabeth passed through it. He couldn't let her leave, not yet. Why hadn't he just asked her, declared himself as he had planned, dreamed about?

Darcy entered the library, searching for Elizabeth. He sighed in relief when he spotted her on the other side of the library with his sister. As he approached he heard Georgiana enquiring if she were well. Darcy grinned to himself. If Elizabeth's state of mind was anything like his at the moment, then no, she was definitely not well. Ecstatic, elated, euphoric were a few words that came immediately to mind.

"Yes, I am well, Georgiana." Elizabeth attempted to smile, but failed miserably.

Georgiana looked at Elizabeth, confused at her friend's distracted behavior. Seeing her brother behind Elizabeth she inquired, "You didn't quarrel again, did you?"

Darcy, seeing a way to gain more time with Elizabeth, immediately responded, "Yes." At the same time as Elizabeth responded in the negative.

Elizabeth turned to Mr Darcy, her heart pounding. As she met his ardent gaze, she sucked in a breath at the look of utter adoration on his face; his eyes filled with unspoken promises.

Without breaking her gaze, he repeated. "Yes, Georgiana, we quarreled. We need a little more time."

Georgiana looked back and forth between her brother and Elizabeth, her brow lowered in bewilderment. She cleared her throat. "Unfortunately brother, we have been away too long as it is. Miss Bingley came by just now. Fortunately, I was able to hide behind a bookshelf before she could see me, but I doubt I will be as successful next time. I can't return to the Drawing room without Lizzy, brother. If we don't return, I am afraid someone else will come looking for us."

Darcy sighed, knowing his sister was correct. He looked at Elizabeth longingly. So close. He had been so close. He groaned in frustration, running his hands through his hair. "Very well. I will see you both back in the Drawing room."

Darcy watched them leave. Elizabeth turned at the door to smile shyly, her face flushing becomingly as she met his gaze.

Elizabeth walked down the hallway beside Georgiana in a daze. Thankfully, she was silent so Elizabeth was able to relive that blissful moment.

"You didn't really quarrel, did you, Lizzy?" Georgiana turned to gaze at her distracted friend. She didn't know what happened while they were in her brother's study, but she was fairly certain her brother had not secured Elizabeth's hand. She huffed in frustration. He probably did something that scared her away.

Elizabeth shook her head, absentmindedly. "No, we didn't quarrel." She followed Georgiana into the Drawing room, taking a seat next to Lady Worthington. She took a deep breath, turning to meet Lady Worthington's knowing gaze. Elizabeth blushed as she laughed.

Nodding her head, Lady Worthington leaned in and whispered, "I was right, was I not?"

"About what, my lady?"

With a sly smile, she answered, "About the Darcy men being passionate."

Elizabeth blanched, staring at Lady Worthington in horror.

Lady Worthington winked. "Don't worry dear, you can't tell you've been kissed. I just know by the slightly dazed look in your eyes and your heightened color."

Elizabeth blushed, looking down. If only Lady Worthington knew it was not Mr Darcy who had initiated the kiss. Although, he would have if she'd let him. She sighed. Well, what was done, was done. And she didn't regret it, shameless hussy that she was.

Elizabeth smiled gratefully at Lady Worthington. "I wanted to thank you for your words that day at the Foundling Hospital. It helped me see Mr Darcy in a different light. I realized that I had overreacted. You were right, he was acting out of a protective instinct."

Lady Worthington smiled kindly, patting her knee. "You are very welcome, my dear. The Darcy men don't mean to be controlling, but it often comes across that way. Just remember that, my girl and don't let him get away with it."

Elizabeth laughed, looking up to see Miss Bingley staring daggers at her. "And why, pray, would you be giving this hoyden advice about Mr Darcy, my lady?"

Lady Worthington straightened in her seat, fixing Miss Bingley with a severe look. "That, my dear, Miss Bingley, is none of your concern."

Miss Bingley's eyes narrowed as she gazed at Lady Worthington. Thankfully, she turned and left in a huff, muttering under her breath, "We'll see about that."

Elizabeth breathed a sign of relief. She would take three Lady Emily's over one Miss Bingley any day. She thanked Lady Worthington.

"Not at all, my dear. I should have realized she was standing there."

Elizabeth looked up as the gentlemen entered, watching in amusement as the Colonel and Mr Bingley walked quickly to where her sister sat with her Aunt and Lady Eleanor. Sensing Mr Darcy's presence, she looked up to see him gazing at her, a small smile on his face.

Lady Worthington chuckled, getting up from her seat. "Well, I believe that is my cue."

Darcy held up a hand. "No, stay where you are, my lady. I simply wished to escort Miss Elizabeth to the pianoforte."

Elizabeth took Mr Darcy's hand, her gaze never leaving his. He gently kissed her hand, placing it around his arm before leading her to the pianoforte.

Darcy searched through the music as Elizabeth took a seat. Sitting beside her, he showed her the music he had come to associate with her.

Elizabeth smiled, shaking her head as he held out the sheet music for Beethoven's Piano Concerto. "I don't require the music, Mr Darcy." She tapped her head, "I have it all up here."

Darcy leaned towards her, placing the music in front of her as he whispered, "Humor me, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth took a deep breath and began playing, focusing on the music in front of her, needing a distraction from the gentleman sitting close beside her.

Darcy watched Elizabeth from the corner of his eye as she played, mesmerized by the emotion she displayed as she played. As he reached forward to turn the page, he whispered, "I see you haven't learned from my cousin's tales of me and Bingley."

"What haven't I learned, Darcy?" Elizabeth whispered, desperately trying to pay attention to her playing.

Darcy slowly reached behind Elizabeth, placing his hand on her back, grateful that the pianoforte was situated in a way that his gesture was undetected by those in the room. He shifted slightly on the bench to move closer to her. He slowly moved his hand up her back, feeling her shiver slightly at his light caress.

Leaning forward to turn the page, he turned his head slightly, meeting her gaze and said in a low voice, "That I always retaliate."

Elizabeth swallowed, forcing herself to keep playing. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure that everyone could hear it. She felt she was coming out of her skin. _Breathe, Elizabeth._

"Is that so, Mr Darcy? Should I be frightened?"

Darcy slowly trailed his fingers down her back. "Definitely." He pressed his hand to her lower back, smiling at her quick intake of breath. She finished playing, standing quickly as everyone applauded her performance. He stood when she did, reluctantly dropping his hand from her back. As she stepped away from the pianoforte, Darcy followed her, offering his arm to escort her back to her seat.

As they walked to take a seat, Miss Bingley approached, her eyes blazing. Bingley following closely behind her, reaching out to grasp his sister's arm. "Caroline, don't."

Miss Bingley ripped her arm from her brother's grasp. Looking at Mr Darcy, she narrowed her eyes at Elizabeth's hand wrapped around his arm. In a low voice, she hissed, "I don't understand what you are doing, Mr Darcy."

Darcy raised his brows, gazing at Miss Bingley with barely concealed disdain. "I don't have the pleasure of understanding you, Miss Bingley."

Elizabeth glanced around the room, grateful that most of the guests seemed to be helping themselves to refreshments laid out on the other side of the room. She watched Jane approach, her eyes wary. She was followed closely by Colonel Fitzwilliam, whose gaze was unmistakably eager. Elizabeth barely refrained from rolling her eyes. Jane was right, he did relish the ridiculous a little too much.

"What do I mean, Mr Darcy? I mean what are you doing giving your attentions to this country nobody!"

Elizabeth's eyes widened in shock. How dare she? Elizabeth opened her mouth to retort, when Mr Darcy brought his hand to rest over hers lying on his arm. He looked at her, and she trembled at the look of fury on his face.

Darcy stared at Miss Bingley, coldly. "You will apologize to the woman I will one day make my wife or I will throw you out."

Miss Bingley stared at Mr Darcy in shock, her mouth gaping open. She sputtered, "You can't be serious." Her voice rose in volume and she exclaimed, "How could you bestow your favor on a common strumpet!"

What happened next was a blur. Elizabeth gasped as Mr Darcy stepped forward, a murderous light in his eyes. Before Mr Darcy could utter a word, Jane walked quickly towards Miss Bingley, a determined glint in her beautiful blue eyes.

Jane approached, throwing her glass of ratafia (2) in Miss Bingley's face. "The only strumpet here, Miss Bingley is you." Jane was indignant. Who did this woman think she was?

Everyone froze, stunned. Miss Bingley stood with dripping, brown liquid running down her enraged face.

Colonel Fitzwilliam burst out laughing, gazing at Jane with undisguised delight. Jane stood, with clenched fists, shaking with fury at the slight to her dearest sister.

Elizabeth stared openmouthed at her sister, shocked that proper Jane would do such a thing.

Mr Bingley, his face bright red, handed his handkerchief to his sister, gently taking her by the arm. He turned to Darcy, bowing. "I believe I will take my sister home. Forgive us for ruining your birthday." Glaring at his sister, he pulled her away.

Recovering from her shock, Elizabeth called out, "Oh, Miss Bingley. Since you are so interested in expanding your reading repertoire, may I suggest _The Vindictive Spirit_? I believe you'll be able to identify with the protagonist quite well. Good evening to you."

Lady Worthington approached, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "I believe Miss Bingley will have to learn to read first, Miss Elizabeth. As it is obvious she can't even recognize her own name."

Miss Bingley's face paled and she glared at the imposter standing calmly next to Mr Darcy. This was not over, she would not lose to this hussy who had obviously seduced her Mr Darcy.

Mr Bingley apologized profusely to Darcy before leaving with haste, dragging his incensed sister behind him.

After the Bingley's left, everyone converged on Elizabeth and Jane asking if they were well. Most had not heard Miss Bingley's slanderous remark to Elizabeth, but no one missed Jane's spectacular display.

Mrs Gardiner led a still furious Jane to a nearby sofa, Colonel Fitzwilliam following closely behind. As he left, he turned and winked at Darcy, a wide smile on his face.

Darcy led Elizabeth to a sofa, taking a seat beside her. He was livid. That was it. No longer would he tolerate Miss Bingley's company. He had done so out of respect to Bingley, but no friendship was worth subjecting the ones he loved to that woman's vitriol. He would welcome Bingley's company, but not hers.

"Please don't let this unfortunate event effect your relationship with Mr Bingley." Elizabeth said softly.

Darcy turned to Elizabeth, a small smile on his face, unsurprised that she was more concerned for his comfort and well-being than hers. He clasped her hand, squeezing it gently. "Don't worry, Elizabeth. It won't, unless Bingley decides he doesn't wish to continue the acquaintance."

"And what of Miss Bingley?"

Darcy's countenance darkened. "I will never acknowledge her again."

Elizabeth nodded, unsurprised. What caused a woman to act so despicably? She couldn't help feeling pity for Miss Bingley, despite her unkind remarks. She had obviously convinced herself that she and Mr Darcy were meant to be. She sighed. She was more concerned for her sister. Her behavior tonight...she was sure Jane would be berating herself most severely for her improper display. But Elizabeth felt nothing but gratitude towards her.

Darcy turned, taking both Elizabeth's hands in his own, rubbing circles gently on the back of her hands. "Let's speak of more pleasant things, Elizabeth." He looked up, holding her gaze. "I wish for a private audience with you tomorrow." Darcy looked at their joined hands for a moment before raising his head, his intent clear. "Would that be acceptable?"

Elizabeth stopped breathing, staring into Mr Darcy's eyes. Could he possibly mean what she hoped he did? Elizabeth exhaled slowly, nodding her head slowly. "Of course."

Darcy smiled, bring her hand to his lips for a kiss. "Thank you, Elizabeth."

Later that night, after his guests had departed, Darcy sat in his study, slowly tracing the flowers on the handkerchief Elizabeth had made. Although events had not transpired the way he had planned, he could not regret what had occurred. _Elizabeth's kiss._ He smiled, leaning back in his chair. Tomorrow, he _would_ declare himself, nothing could prevent him from doing so.

Darcy stood to retire when a knock sounded on his study door. He frowned, glancing at the clock on the mantle. It was after one in the morning. "Enter."

To his surprise, Fletcher entered bearing a tray with a message. "Forgive the late hour, sir, but this just came. I thought you would want to read it right away."

Darcy took the letter from Fletcher, immediately recognizing the writing of one of his contacts. "Thank you, Fletcher. Good night."

"Good night, sir."

Darcy tore open the message before Fletcher had left, staring at the three words.

_We found him._

He collapsed in his chair, closing his eyes in relief. Finally. Now, he would get his answers and more importantly, Elizabeth would get hers.

A/N: So sorry for the late post. But at least this chapter is exceptionally long, right? So, this will be my last post for awhile (I know, I know, I'm sorry!) but I'm leaving on vacation and I will not be posting while I'm gone. I'll be too busy eating seafood, taking long walks on the beach and introducing my kiddos to the ocean. So, don't expect a post for at least two weeks. But, never fear, I will resume posting as soon as this month settles down - it is summer after all! I am not abandoning the story. Believe me, I want to see what happens as much as you do!

So, the vote for Caroline's smack down was overwhelming Jane, so I let her do the honors :) But Lady W and Elizabeth were close seconds, so I let them take a dig at C as well. Please review and tell me what you thought. We'll be driving for 14 long hours so I'll need something to read on the way :)

Keep reading and reviewing! See you in two weeks!

Much love,

MAH

(1) Angelo's School of Arms, established by an Italian in London around 1755.

(2) Ratafia was an after dinner drink. Extremely sugary and made from a base of brandy with an infusion of fruits and spices.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 26

Elizabeth silently held Jane's hand as they traveled home. Thankfully her Aunt and Uncle were silent as well, allowing her to reflect on the events of the evening. She squeezed Jane's hand reassuringly. Dear Jane. What courage she had demonstrated tonight. She knew her sister was likely berating herself soundly for her indecorous display but all Elizabeth felt was gratitude and no small amount of awe.

Upon entering the Gardiner townhouse, Elizabeth and Jane bid a hasty good night to their Aunt and Uncle before quickly retreating upstairs. By unspoken agreement, Elizabeth followed Jane into her bedroom. As soon as the door closed, Jane collapsed against the door, laughing.

Elizabeth stared at her sister in surprise. This was the last thing she expected. Upon seeing her sister's confused expression, Jane laughed harder, clutching her stomach.

Jane stumbled over to her dressing table, sitting down as she wiped tears of mirth from her eyes. "What a night!"

Elizabeth laughed and began to remove the pins from Jane's hair. "Indeed, it was."

Jane shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe I did that." She looked at her sister through the mirror. "You are a bad influence on me, Lizzy."

Elizabeth smiled, shaking her head. "No Jane. That was you. All you. I must say, you were magnificent." She deftly braided Jane's hair and they switched places.

Jane removed the pins from Elizabeth's hair, sighing softly. "I know what I did was improper, but I would do it again. What that woman said about you was inexcusable!" Jane raised her eyes to meet Elizabeth's sympathetic gaze, a glimmer of the previous fire still burning within the depths of her blue eyes. "Especially since she acted like a complete hoyden towards your Mr Darcy the entire evening! And then she had the gall to accuse you of being a strumpet?" Jane shook her head in anger.

Elizabeth sighed deeply as Jane finished braiding her hair. She stood, turning to face her sister. "Yes, Miss Bingley's behavior was deplorable." Quirking an eyebrow, she grinned mischievously. "Colonel Fitzwilliam was certainly impressed."

To Elizabeth's delight, Jane blushed a becoming crimson.

"Don't tease me, Lizzy!"

Elizabeth laughed. "I'm not. I'm simply stating the facts. You should have seen his face, Jane! He was positively glowing with pride. I almost expected him to declare himself in that very moment."

Jane huffed a laugh, shaking her head. "Well, at least someone received pleasure from my improper display."

They were both silent as they helped the other to undress. After changing into their nightclothes they both climbed onto the bed, settling comfortably on the soft counterpane.

Elizabeth took Jane's hand, squeezing it gently. "Jane, it may have been improper, but no one faulted you for it. Indeed, I would have done something as rash if you had not stepped in."

Elizabeth smiled gratefully at her sister. "Thank you, Jane."

"You're welcome, Lizzy." She raised her brows. "Now, if I'm not mistaken, I believe a certain gentleman declared to the entire room that he would make you his wife."

It was Elizabeth's turn to blush crimson. "I was as surprised as you, Jane. I never imagined that Fitzwilliam would declare his intentions in such a way."

Jane stared wide eyed at her sister. "Lizzy, did you just refer to Mr Darcy by his Christian name?"

Elizabeth looked down, avoiding her sister's knowing gaze. "Yes, I did."

"Lizzy! What does this mean?" She gasped, bringing her hand to her throat. "When you left with Georgiana! Did she take you to see Mr Darcy?" She grabbed Elizabeth's hand in her excitement. "Did he propose?"

Elizabeth's head shot up in surprise. Her sister was too discerning. "Yes and no."

"Yes, Georgiana took you to see Mr Darcy, but no, he didn't propose?"

Elizabeth nodded her head in agreement. "Georgiana took me to meet Fitzwilliam in his study. He wanted me to be present when he opened my gifts."

Jane frowned in confusion. "And he didn't use the opportunity to propose? Why ever not?"

Elizabeth bit her lip, remembering Fitzwilliam's distress at her leaving so suddenly after her imprudent kiss. She knew, instinctively, that he wanted her alone so he could propose and she had ruined it.

Elizabeth looked down, tracing the pattern of the counterpane with her finger. "I believe he would have, but something occurred which prevented him from declaring himself."

Jane looked at her in surprise. "What happened?"

Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth looked up to met her sister's gaze. "I kissed him."

Jane became still, staring at her sister in shock. She blinked. "Did you just say that _you _kissed him?"

Elizabeth slowly nodded her head, a blush creeping over her face. "I did. It was very brief, but I most definitely initiated the kiss."

Jane continued to stare at her sister in silence, her eyes wide. In a strangled voice she whispered, "You compromised him?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened in shock. Had she? She shook her head, saying firmly, "No, I didn't Jane." At her sister's incredulous look, she reiterated, "I didn't because if I hadn't kissed him, he most definitely would have kissed me."

Jane shook her head, closing her eyes. "Tell me everything that happened."

Elizabeth took a deep breath, sharing everything that happened in Fitzwilliam's study, except for the story he had shared about his mother and the flowers. That was too private to share with her sister. As she related the part about his intent to kiss her, she brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs as she remembered that moment and how he had made her feel. Beautiful. Desirable. Adored. Loved. She looked at Jane who wore a soft smile on her face, a pink blush staining her cheeks.

"You're not disappointed in me, are you, Jane?"

Jane shook her head, smiling. "I am hardly one to judge, Lizzy. Especially after my behavior tonight. I think it's romantic. I'm sure Mr Darcy won't soon forget this birthday." She huffed. "But he still should have proposed!"

Elizabeth laughed. "I told you what happened, Jane. I didn't give him a chance. I ran." Biting her lip, her eyes glowing with happiness, she added, "He asked for a private audience with me tomorrow."

Jane's eyes brightened. "Truly?"

Elizabeth nodded, hugging her legs tighter. "It's finally happening, Jane. By this time tomorrow, I will be an engaged woman."

Jane squealed, bouncing lightly on the bed. "Oh, I am so happy for you, Lizzy!"

Elizabeth laughed at her sister's exuberance. With a sly smile, she said, "Perhaps, you will be engaged soon yourself?"

Jane blushed, a hopeful light in her eyes. Shrugging her shoulders, she said, nonchalantly, "Perhaps."

Elizabeth flopped down on her back, sighing happily. "Do you remember on our journey to London when I said what could possibly happen in two months?"

Jane nodded, gracefully laying on her side to face her sister. "I do remember."

Elizabeth turned on her side, propping her head in her hand. With sparkling eyes, she smiled widely. "On our journey here, I never could have imagined that I would fall in love and become engaged within a month of making that statement. Or that you would fall in love as well."

Jane smiled. "I know. Incredible, isn't it, Lizzy?" Jane's happy countenance became grave and she said, quietly, "We only have three more weeks in London before we return home."

Elizabeth sat up, looking at her sister. This news did not bother her too much. She and Fitzwilliam would be engaged and although they would be parted, she knew it would only be for a short time before they were married. Elizabeth's heart raced at the thought of becoming Fitzwilliam's wife. His wife! Seeing Jane's downcast expression, she sobered immediately.

"Jane," Elizabeth said hesitantly. "I'm sure Colonel Fitzwilliam will declare himself before we return home." With conviction, she added, "He must!"

Jane sighed softly as she lay on her back, her expression contemplative. Almost inaudibly, she whispered, "He is afraid, I think."

"What do you mean? What is he afraid of?"

Jane sat up and faced her sister. "He is afraid of what may happen in the coming months, Lizzy. His life is so uncertain right now and I think he is waiting until he knows if he will be leaving."

Elizabeth stared at Jane in astonishment. "Leaving? Where? Why?"

Jane laughed, shaking her head in bemusement. "Oh Lizzy, lost in your own little world. Haven't you heard the conversations about Colonel Fitzwilliam possibly being sent back to the Iberian Peninsula?"

"Truly? Oh Jane!" Elizabeth berated herself for being so self absorbed. How could she have missed something so important?

Jane smiled sadly. "It is true. He still doesn't know and I think the uncertainty is causing him to be more cautious."

Elizabeth's heart ached for her sister. How would she feel if the man she loved was sent to the continent, with the possibility of him being harmed, perhaps even killed? She shook her head, chastising herself for even thinking such a horrible thought.

"Why doesn't he just sell out? I'm sure there are other opportunities for a man of his ability and intelligence, not to mention his connections."

Jane nodded. "Yes, I have thought of that as well. But, I'm not in a position to suggest it. Indeed, it's not my place."

Elizabeth huffed. "Of course it is Jane."

Jane shook her head vehemently. "It is not, Lizzy. We are not engaged. We haven't even come to an understanding. It would be inappropriate for me to suggest it. Please, say no more about it."

Elizabeth gazed at her sister's resolute expression. She sighed. "Very well, Jane. I will say nothing more." _To you_, she added silently. She would definitely ask Fitzwilliam.

Deciding Jane needed something to distract her from thoughts of the Colonel, she asked nonchalantly, "What did you think about Mr Bingley?"

Jane looked at Elizabeth, a reflective expression on her face. "I liked him. He is amiable, attentive, knowledgeable, kind. I enjoyed our conversation at dinner very much."

Elizabeth arched a brow, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Did you think him handsome?"

Jane nodded. "Yes, I suppose one could call him handsome."

Elizabeth watched her sister. She seemed completely unaffected by Mr Bingley. She decided to try another tactic to elicit more of a response. "He showed you marked interest tonight, Jane."

"Yes, I suppose he did." Jane looked at her sister, her expression calm and serene.

Elizabeth smiled, content. Perhaps Mr Bingley's interest in her sister would be the impetus the Colonel needed to finally declare himself.

Much later that night, as Elizabeth lay in bed beside her sleeping sister, her last thought before succumbing to a peaceful slumber was that Jane had not corrected her when she said she was in love with Colonel Fitzwilliam.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Darcy strode down the hallway towards the small dining room to break his fast. Sleep had eluded him, his thoughts alternating between Elizabeth and how to handle the situation with John Williamson.

Entering the dining room, he halted at the uncharacteristic presence of his cousin. He fought the urge to check his watch to verify that it was indeed before noon.

"Richard, what are you doing up so early?"

Richard smiled, raising his coffee cup. "I wanted to be the first to congratulate you on your betrothal to your lady love."

Darcy sighed, taking his customary seat at the head of the table. "We are not betrothed, Richard."

Richard clanked his cup in the saucer loudly. "Good heavens, she didn't refuse you?"

Darcy glared at his cousin. "Of course not! I never got the chance to ask. An oversight I will remedy later this morning."

Richard stared at Darcy in confusion. "I thought all those heated looks between the two of you last night was indication that things had finally been settled between you."

Darcy shook his head. "I need to speak to you about something important."

Richard raised his brows. "More important than your Miss Elizabeth?"

Darcy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He leveled a grave look at his cousin. "He's been found."

"I see. Well, let's not ruin our breakfast with talk of that man. Let's resume this conversation in your study."

Darcy agreed and they both were silent, lost in their thoughts as they ate. When they finished, they both arose and silently made their way to his study down the hall.

As soon as the door was closed, Darcy turned to his cousin. "I'm debating on whether or not to inform Gardiner right away that he's been found."

Richard settled himself in his favorite chair before the fireplace before responding. "I understand your reluctance, Darcy. But didn't Gardiner promise Miss Elizabeth answers after he was found?"

Darcy sighed, taking the chair across from Richard. "Yes. And for that reason, Gardiner will be told. But when? Now or after we've ascertained if he's a threat to Elizabeth?"

Richard nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Well, I don't see any reason to tell him immediately. I assume you are having men follow Williamson?"

Darcy nodded his head in agreement. He rubbed his hand over his face wearily. "I think the best thing would be to approach him myself and talk to him."

Richard raised his brows. "That didn't work out so well the last time, if I'm not mistaken. Didn't he run from you?"

Darcy stood and began pacing. "Well, what would you have me do, Richard? Have him followed for an indefinite amount of time?"

Richard slowly shook his head. "No, but I don't think you should approach him. Let him come to us."

Darcy paused, looking at his cousin with interest. "Go on."

Richard grinned. "Well, I say the best way to catch a rat is to put out bait."

Darcy glared at his cousin. "We are not using Elizabeth as bait!"

Richard held up his hands. "No, of course not! I would never suggest such a thing." He leaned back in his chair, extending his legs in front of him. "It's simple. Simply have the men following him be obvious about it. When Williamson confronts them, he'll be handed your card with a request to meet with him."

Darcy slowly nodded, rubbing his chin. "That could work." He leveled a look at Richard. "Or he could run."

Richard shrugged his shoulders. "Possibly. But I bet his curiosity would get the better of him. He'll want to know why he's being followed."

"Very well. Will you inform Jones and Hoskins?"

Richard nodded. "I'll do it on my way to the War Office." He stood, stretching lightly. With a sly smile, he asked, "What did you think of Jane's spectacular display last night?"

"I was very...impressed with her courage to do such a thing in polite company."

Richard smiled with pride. "That's my girl!"

Darcy snorted. "No, she isn't. You have been dragging your feet, Richard." He raised his brows. "Perhaps, you have reconsidered?"

Richard simply grinned, heading for the door. He turned and with a wink said, "Good luck today, Darcy."

Darcy's heart picked up and he smiled in anticipation. Today. He would finally secure Elizabeth's hand today. He flipped open his watch to check the time. He groaned. Too early for a social call. He snapped his watch shut, in frustration. He knew Elizabeth was expecting his arrival at his customary time of one o'clock. But he would go mad if he had to wait that long. He sighed, running his hands through his hair. He didn't care if it was too early. He was not waiting a moment longer. Decision made, he rang to inform Fletcher he was leaving.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Elizabeth sat at the pianoforte, idly stroking the keys, her mind and heart focused on Fitzwilliam's arrival later that day. She glanced at the mantle clock and sighed. Too early. She straightened, bringing her hands to her lap. She took a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm the butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach upon awaking that morning. She glanced down at her morning dress, running a hand lightly down the bodice, self consciously. She had dressed with particular care that morning in anticipation of Fitzwilliam's visit. She bit her lip, wishing her gown was green and not white.

"You look lovely, Lizzy. Now, stop fidgeting." Jane smiled, looking up from her place on the sofa.

Elizabeth sighed and stood, sitting beside her sister. She picked up her book laying on the table beside her and began to read. She made a concentrated effort to the words on the page, but her mind kept drifting, lingering on Fitzwilliam's expression the night before in his study when he had voiced his intention to kiss her. She blushed.

Jane sighed softly. "You need to get out, Lizzy. Perhaps we could take a turn in the park?"

Elizabeth looked at her sister gratefully. "Yes, please."

Jane laughed. "Then let us go."

Elizabeth stood hastily and followed her sister. As they donned their outerwear, Simmons approached with an apologetic expression on his face.

"Forgive me, ladies, but I'm afraid it will not be possible for you to venture out this morning."

Elizabeth looked at Simmons in surprise. Why ever not?"

"I understand that your, ah...escorts are not available this morning."

Elizabeth scowled. This was getting ridiculous. "Is there a footman who could accompany us?"

Simmons face turned red. " I apologize Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, but you will need to discuss it with your Uncle. "

Jane took Elizabeth's hand, averting her response. "Let us go to the garden instead, Lizzy."

Elizabeth reluctantly followed Jane. In an undertone, she whispered, "I think they are overreacting, Jane."

Jane gave her a sympathetic look. "Perhaps, but they are just taking precautions to ensure our protection. We don't know what Mr Williamson's intent is, Lizzy. Besides, it hasn't hampered our movement until now."

"Well, I will be speaking with our Uncle, Jane. It has been more than a fortnight and nothing has happened."

Jane sighed. "That doesn't mean that nothing will, Lizzy. I think Mr Darcy and our Uncle are correct in being cautious."

Jane paused at the threshold to the garden. "If it's all right with you, I think I will remain inside." She turned to her sister. "Unless you wish for my company?"

Elizabeth shook her head, smiling. "No Jane. I don't mind. I could use some time alone."

Jane smiled, kissing her sister on the cheek. "Here, take my shawl. It is a little chilly out this morning."

Elizabeth continued outside, pausing to breath deeply the crisp, spring air. How she missed the countryside! She wondered what Derbyshire was like this time of year. She smiled contentedly with the realization that she would soon find out. She drew her shawl close around her shoulders, letting her feet take her to the Oak tree. She stood still, looking up at the leaves spreading above her like a large, green coverlet. So many happy memories were associated with this spot. All of them involving the man she had come to love and depend on. She laid her hand on the trunk, feeling the roughness under her palm. How long had it stood, weathering countless storms?

She thought back to her conversation with Fitzwilliam that momentous Sunday when he had climbed this tree with her. _If you would know strength and patience..._ (1) She knew he had not simply been referring to trees, but to her as well. Dear Fitzwilliam. She smiled. He believed that she possessed strength and patience. In a way, she supposed he was correct. It definitely took strength of character and patience to withstand the buffetings of her mother's constant disdain. But her strength and patience was comparable to a sapling, not this large, sturdy oak tree. Fitzwilliam gave her strength and confidence in herself. But patience...she sighed, shaking her head. She tried, truly, she did. But it was so difficult sometimes to bear her mother's derision with patience and forbearance. She knew that with time and Fitzwilliam by her side, she would be able to withstand her mother's contempt with more patience and maybe even, indifference. _Although, living in a county separate from mama would certainly help, _she thought wryly. She gazed up at the branches spreading above her. Making a quick decision, she tied her shawl around her waist tightly and began to climb.

When she reached the top, she settled herself somewhat comfortably on a large branch, turning to look down at the garden far below her, marveling at how different everything looked from this perspective. If only she were able to see her mother in a different light, a new perspective. She knew that something must have happened years ago to cause her to become so bitter and vindictive. She prayed that Mr Williamson would soon be found and she would receive the answers her Uncle had promised.

She shivered as a gust of wind tore through the tree, making the branches sway precariously. She gripped the branch more firmly, her heart pounding. Deciding that it would be most inconvenient to fall on such an auspicious day, she stood to climb down. As she turned to begin her descent, her hair got caught on a small branch, causing her to gasp more out of surprise than pain. Gripping the branch tightly with one hand, she carefully reached up with her other hand and attempted to remove her hair from the offending branch. When she realized it would be impossible to do so with only one hand, she paused, considering her options. She huffed in exasperation. There was only one option available that didn't include her falling or remaining attached to the tree. She reached up and deftly removed the pins from her hair, placing them carefully in the pocket of her gown. After the last pin was removed, she reached up and carefully untangled her hair from the branch, wincing as she tore a few strands in the process.

Once her hair was free, she breathed a sigh of relief. Pushing it back from her face, she turned to begin her climb down. As she was making her way carefully down the tree, she heard a voice that caused her to gasp in surprise.

"Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth looked down, her eyes widening in shock as she spied Fitzwilliam standing beneath the tree. Her eyes widened in horror as her hair swirled around her. Her hair!

"Elizabeth, are you here?"

"I'm here, Mr Darcy. Just a moment." Before he could look up and see her, she positioned herself out of sight, settling on a branch. She quickly braided her hair, winding it in a low bun.

Taking a pin from the pocket of her gown, she stuck it in her hair. "You're early, Mr Darcy."

With amusement, he responded, "Should I return later, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth huffed a laugh as she stuck two more pins in her hair. "That won't be necessary, Mr Darcy. I will be right down."

"What are you doing?"

Elizabeth adjusted her position slightly so she could peer down, meeting the amused gaze of Fitzwilliam. "Nothing."

She sat back, quickly removing a pin before placing it in the bun at the nape of her neck. She fumbled for the next pin, watching it fall and land at Fitzwilliam's feet. She saw him bend over and pick it up. She leaned back, closing her eyes. Why did she have to climb a tree today? Quickly placing her last pin in her hair, she stood.

"Turn around, please, Mr Darcy. I'm coming down."

Without waiting for his response, she quickly descended. When she came to the lowest branch hanging over the bench, she gasped as she felt strong hands grip her waist. She was lowered with care to stand next to Fitzwilliam on the bench. He gazed at her for a long moment, before reaching in his inside pocket.

Holding up her hair pin, he quirked a smile. "Lose something?"

Elizabeth bit her lip, blushing. As she reached out to take it from him, he held it out of her reach, a playful gleam in his eyes.

Raising his brows, he asked, "What took you so long, Elizabeth? Did you perchance have a mishap with your hair?"

Elizabeth huffed. "Perhaps. Now, if you please?" she responded, reaching for her missing hair pin.

Darcy gave it to her with a small smile before helping her off the bench.

Elizabeth quickly stuck the last remaining pin in her hair. She looked up at Fitzwilliam with a smile. "Thank you."

Darcy gazed at Elizabeth, his expression warm. He fingered a lock of her hair that had escaped her hasty styling. "So soft," he murmured. "What happened to your hair?"

Elizabeth swallowed and responded nonchalantly, "What do you mean?"

Darcy smiled, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "What do I mean? I'm very familiar with the hairstyles you wear, Elizabeth. And this," he reached out, lightly fingering her hair, "is not a hairstyle I have ever seen you wear."

Elizabeth looked down, not knowing what to say.

Darcy leaned in, whispering in her ear. "May I offer my opinion on what happened?"

Elizabeth shivered at his nearness, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She nodded.

Darcy lifted Elizabeth's chin with his finger. "I believe your hair became tangled in a branch and in order to disentangle your hair you had to remove your hair pins. Am I correct?"

Elizabeth stared at Darcy, her eyes wide. "How did you know?"

Darcy smiled, reaching out to remove a small stick from her hair, holding it out as evidence. He raised his brows. "I have proof."

Elizabeth laughed. "You caught me, Mr Darcy. I did get my hair caught in a branch and I had no other option but to remove my hair pins."

"Why did you put it up? Did it not occur to you to just leave it down?"

Elizabeth raised a brow. "Of course not! It would not have been proper for you to see me in such a state, sir."

Darcy gazed at Elizabeth, reaching out to cup her face gently. "Since when are you concerned with being proper, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth blushed at Fitzwilliam's knowing gaze, looking down in embarrassment. She felt gentle hands at the back of her head and realized too late what he was doing. She gasped softly as her hair cascaded down around her shoulders, the soft sound of her pins falling to the ground.

"Much better," Darcy whispered. He gently raised Elizabeth's head, staring into her brown eyes. He fingered her hair, gently moving a strand behind her ear, his eyes moving lovingly over face. "So beautiful. You are so beautiful, Elizabeth."

As she stared into Fitzwilliam's deep, blue eyes, her breath caught at his ardent gaze. She lowered her gaze to his mouth, licking her lips and heard his quick intake of breath. Her eyes shot up to meet his. Wordlessly, they stared at one another in an intense, soul searching gaze. Elizabeth saw his intent clearly in his eyes and she closed her eyes in breathless anticipation as Fitzwilliam lowered his head, pulling her into his embrace.

When he captured her lips in a gentle kiss, she sighed softly, melting into his embrace. All her senses were focused on the man who held her tenderly in his arms. He kissed her adoringly, reverently; her lips moving in tandem with his, a perfect fit. She reached out, grasping his waist lightly as his hands reached up to cradle her face tenderly. This was infinitely more satisfying than her kiss the night before. This kiss was all encompassing, all consuming. She was completely and utterly lost. After an indefinite amount of time, they broke apart, both breathing raggedly.

Darcy trailed soft kisses over Elizabeth's face, his hands moving languidly down her back, drawing her closer. "Elizabeth," he breathed in her ear, her name falling like a prayer from his lips. "Marry me."

Elizabeth leaned back slightly to look at him, attempting to catch her breath. She quirked an eyebrow and with a smile, said breathlessly, "Commanding me again, Mr Darcy?"

Darcy groaned softly, bringing his forehead to rest against hers. Raising his head, he met her gaze, filled with love and joy.

Staring into Elizabeth's eyes, he saw his future. His mother was right, they would be incandescently happy. His heart was full of so many things he wanted to tell her. But only one truly mattered in this perfect moment.

Unable to help himself, he leaned down, capturing her lips in another kiss that left them both breathless. He pulled back slightly, marveling that this incredible woman would soon be his. He caressed her face lovingly with gentle fingers.

He gazed at Elizabeth, his heart in his eyes. "I love you, Elizabeth. I can't imagine life without you by my side. Please do me the great honor of becoming my wife."

Elizabeth blinked back the tears threatening to fall and she smiled softly. "Much better, Mr Darcy." She leaned up to bestow a gentle kiss.

Darcy returned her kiss eagerly. He broke their kiss, pulling back reluctantly. "Is that a yes?"

Elizabeth smiled slowly, her eyes twinkling. "What do you think?"

Darcy narrowed his eyes, in mock anger. "Wicked woman."

Elizabeth laughed joyfully, her heart bursting with happiness. She cradled Fitzwilliam's face between her hands, her gaze melting into his. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I will be your wife, Fitzwilliam."

The smile that he bestowed upon hearing her answer caused her knees to buckle and she would have fallen if not for his strong hands gripping her waist. "Thank you, my love," he whispered fervently, pulling her close for another kiss. One hand cupped the back of her head, while the other wrapped around her waist possessively.

Unlike their first kiss, which was gentle and tender, this kiss was intense, passionate. Possessive. She responded eagerly, slowly moving her hands up Fitzwilliam's arms, tangling her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. She heard him groan softly as he deepened their kiss. She gasped as a new wave of sensation washed through her, leaving her trembling in his embrace. He wrapped both arms around her, holding her secure in his arms.

He pulled back, breathing heavily. "Forgive me, Elizabeth. I didn't mean..."

Elizabeth placed her hand lightly over his mouth, as she struggled to take an even breath. "Don't apologize, Fitzwilliam. I don't recall objecting to your attentions."

He gave her a heated look. "Heaven help us, Elizabeth." He tangled his hands in her hair. "Please tell me we can marry, soon."

Elizabeth pulled back so she could see his face. Pushing his hair away from his brow, she trailed her fingers down his beloved face. He closed his eyes in pleasure, capturing her hand to bestow a kiss in the center of her palm.

She needed to tell him. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage. Meeting his ardent gaze with one of her own, she said with certainty, "I love you, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy's breath caught at Elizabeth's declaration. "Say it again," he whispered hoarsely, drawing her closer.

Elizabeth smiled, her eyes glowing with love. "I love you, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy lifted her hands to wrap around his neck, his arms encircling her small waist. "Again," he murmured as he lowered his head.

"I love you, Fitz..."

Darcy cut off her words with a searing kiss. Some moments later, they broke apart, with flushed faces, mussed hair, and swollen lips. Darcy gathered Elizabeth in his arms, holding her close.

Elizabeth closed her eyes in utter peace and contentment, listening to his rapid heartbeat, which no doubt matched her own. She raised her hand to rest over his heart, whispering, "This belongs to me."

Darcy smiled, kissing her hair softly. "Yes, it does. As yours belongs to me."

Elizabeth raised her head to meet his gaze. "Thank you for loving me, Fitzwilliam, for choosing me."

Darcy gazed at the woman he loved. "You were made for me, Elizabeth. We were always meant to be together."

Elizabeth smiled through the tears obscuring her gaze, blinking rapidly. "Yes," she whispered. "I know."

Darcy leaned down, kissing her softly. He smiled against her lips. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of kissing you, my love."

Elizabeth laughed softly. "I feel the same, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy pulled back. "I love hearing my name on your lips. I'm afraid I was too overcome last night from your unexpected kiss to fully appreciate it."

Elizabeth bit her lip, as she blushed. "I shocked you, didn't I?"

Darcy slowly shook his head. "It pleased me, Elizabeth. You please me, my love. I'm overjoyed that you felt comfortable enough to kiss me." He lightly caressed her lips with his finger, leaning in to whisper, "I hope you repeat it often in the future."

"Noted, Fitzwilliam." Elizabeth smiled, leaning up to kiss her betrothed. Her betrothed! She sighed happily.

Darcy took her hand, kissing it before leading her to the bench. Before she sat, he unknotted the shawl tied around her waist, gently placing it around her shoulders. Reaching behind her neck, he pulled out her hair so it rested above the shawl. He played with the loose curls that cascaded down her back, marveling at the red, gold and bronze hues the sun brought out in her hair.

"Your hair is so beautiful, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth looked at him in surprise. "Thank you." Shyly, she reached up, fingering the hair at the nape of his neck. "I rather like yours as well. Promise me that you won't ever cut it too short."

Darcy smiled. "I promise, my love."

Elizabeth smiled in pleasure at Fitzwilliam's term of endearment. My love. She found that she rather liked being called his love. "Then I am satisfied."

Darcy laughed, pulling her down to sit beside him on the bench. He drew her close to his side, putting his arm around her. He smiled in satisfaction as Elizabeth nestled against him. She interlaced her fingers with his, gently tracing the lines on his hand.

"What are you thinking, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth looked up. "I was thinking about when you should ask my father for his permission."

Darcy's brow lowered in consternation. He knew he would have to face Elizabeth's father, but if he were being entirely honest with himself, he was dreading it. Not that he was afraid of the man himself, but he was afraid of what he may do or say when in his presence. He could not forgive him for standing by while Mrs Bennet abused Elizabeth. He tightened his arm around her protectively. The sooner he got her away from her home, the better. He would offer to have her sisters come and stay with them, live with them if Elizabeth wished it, but he would not allow Mrs Bennet anywhere near his Elizabeth.

Darcy didn't realize that Elizabeth had been watching him. He met her gaze, sighing when he saw her grave expression.

Hesitantly, Elizabeth said, "I know you don't have kind feelings towards my father, Fitzwilliam. But he is a good man, despite his faults. He has taught me so much." She looked down, gazing at their interlocked hands. "I owe him so much. Please try, for me?"

Darcy felt a wave of shame wash over him. "Of course, Elizabeth. If he is important to you, then I will. But, you have to know ,I cannot condone his behavior."

Elizabeth looked up in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Elizabeth," he began carefully. "Has he ever tried to stop your mother from treating you so horrendously?"

Elizabeth stared at Fitzwilliam for a long moment. No, he hadn't. Not only had he never tried to curtail her mother's disdain, he had simply closed himself away. And the one time she had asked her father the reason for her mother's behavior, he had sent her away with no answers, only more questions.

"He always offered his book room as a sanctuary whenever I needed it," she offered.

Darcy gazed at Elizabeth sympathetically. He shook his head, sadly. "Oh, Elizabeth. As your father, he should have protected you from anyone and anything who sought to harm you, including your mother." _Especially your mother._ He took a deep breath, "I cannot forgive him for failing you."

Elizabeth nodded her head. "I understand, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy turned, clasping both Elizabeth's hands in his own. "But, I will treat him with the respect due to him, because he is the father of the woman I love." He smiled softly at his betrothed. "So, I will ride to Longbourn tomorrow to meet with him. If I leave early enough I can be back before nightfall."

Elizabeth gazed at Fitzwilliam in horror. No! He cannot! She didn't want to contemplate what would happen if Fitzwilliam happened upon her mother without her there.

Seeing Elizabeth's distress, Darcy asked in concern, "What is wrong, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I don't think that would be a very good idea, Fitzwilliam."

"Why?"

Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth said in a rush, "I think it would be best to wait until Jane and I return home in three weeks. We can all travel together, and you can ask my father then. I will write to let him know. With my sister's return, my mother will be preoccupied and..."

Darcy placed his fingers over her mouth. "Breathe, Elizabeth. I think I understand. You are afraid of what your mother may do when I come to ask for your hand?"

Elizabeth nodded numbly. "Yes, I'm afraid of what she may do, Fitzwilliam. I can't send you there alone."

"But if I went alone I could easily contrive a reason to see your father. Some business, perhaps?" With a playful smile, he added, "The settlement papers for our marriage could definitely be considered business."

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, you don't understand. My mother would know. A wealthy landowner comes to visit my father? He never receives unexpected visitors. And with Jane and I in London, my mother would immediately know the reason for your visit. The only way it would work is for us to distract her while you meet with my father."

Darcy rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. "What if you invited your father to London?"

Elizabeth smiled sadly, "My father hasn't been to London in over twenty-five years. My mother would be suspicious."

Darcy huffed in exasperation, running his hand through his hair. "Well, I will do it all by post, then. I will not wait three weeks to gain your father's permission, Elizabeth! I want to be married by then."

Elizabeth's eyes widened in shock. "Three weeks? You want to be married within three weeks?"

Darcy smiled indulgently at Elizabeth. "Yes, my love. Three weeks. No more. I have waited for you long enough. Now that I have secured your hand I'm not waiting any longer than I absolutely have to."

Elizabeth stared at Fitzwilliam in a daze. She couldn't possibly, could she? So soon? Just as Elizabeth had convinced herself that she would like nothing better than to marry Fitzwilliam in three short weeks, she remembered Jane.

She cleared her throat nervously. "I have a rather unusual question, Fitzwilliam. I hope that I don't offend. I know it is not my place to ask such a thing, but.."

Darcy placed his fingers over her mouth, his eyes twinkling. "Ask your unusual and likely improper question, my love. I promise I won't be offended."

"Very well. It concerns Jane and...your cousin." She looked up, biting her lip.

Darcy raised his brows. "Elizabeth," he lightly admonished. "Are you asking me what my cousins intentions are towards your sister?"

Elizabeth blushed but she didn't avert her gaze. She was doing this for Jane. She raised her head and responded with confidence, "Yes, I am."

Darcy sighed. "I wish I could say for certain." At Elizabeth's downcast expression, he amended, "But, I have no doubt Richard has very strong feelings for your sister." Darcy pushed down the slight feeling of guilt at confessing such a thing to Elizabeth. He knew Richard cared deeply for Miss Bennet. Despite his reservations in asking her to wait for him, he was tried of Richard's indecisive behavior.

"Thank you, Fitzwilliam. I hope you don't feel you've betrayed your cousins trust."

Darcy grinned, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "I am sure we can arrange some sort of compensation for my disloyalty."

Elizabeth smiled as Fitzwilliam's arms surrounded her, sighing in contentment as his lips found hers. It felt so right, so natural to be in his arms. She knew he was correct, they were meant to be together. She didn't know how or why, but she would be forever grateful for whatever power brought them together. She felt with absolute certainty that nothing would ever separate them.

A/N: Well, I'm back! Thank you to everyone who wished for me to have a wonderful vacation. It was marvelous! A week of cool, breezy, ocean weather (which was a blessed relief considering the 100+ degree weather I came from); countless beautiful drives, hikes and not to mention the divine seafood!

ODC are finally engaged! Yay! I've been writing this scene in my head, F.O.R.E.V.E.R. I hope you liked it ;) Please leave me a review and tell me what you thought. So...Jane is in love with Richard *does happy dance* But, they are not out of the woods yet. Bingley is ready, willing and waiting...don't underestimate him - he is CB brother, after all.

(1) _If you would know strength and patience, welcome the company of trees_ \- Hal Borland (from Chapter 22, the tree climbing scene)

Please review to feed my muse!

Much love,

MAH


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 27

It was some time before Elizabeth and Darcy returned to the house. They sat and conversed quietly, rejoicing in their newfound understanding; knowing that they loved and were loved in return in equal measure. Their conversation was punctuated with soft kisses and light caresses, their hearts light and full of joy for their future.

When they stood to go, Elizabeth tried to smooth her disheveled hair, knowing it was a hopeless case. She huffed in frustration. "I can't imagine what my Aunt and Jane will say when they see me thus."

Darcy smiled and attempted to assist her. She batted his hands away when his 'helping' became a hindrance. After she smoothed her hair as much as she could, she turned to her betrothed, biting her lip at his mussed hair. She cleared her throat.

"Fitzwilliam, I believe you should do something about your hair as well."

Darcy smiled and with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, lowered his head. "If you would please help me, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth suppressed a smile and smoothed his errant hair in some semblance of order, lightly playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. He closed his eyes in pleasure, groaning softly. After she finished, she ran her fingers through his hair, caressing his face for a brief moment before bestowing a light kiss on his temple. "All done."

Darcy slowly stood upright. "Thank you, my love. I admit, I much prefer your ministrations to that of my valet."

Elizabeth laughed, taking the arm he offered her. "I am happy to be of assistance." She arched a brow, her eyes sparkling. "Although, I believe you could have managed just fine on your own."

Darcy grinned. "Yes. But then I would not experience the supreme pleasure of having your small fingers in my hair."

Elizabeth stared at Darcy, her mouth slightly agape. "Why, you are a regular cad, Fitzwilliam!" she cried in mock outrage.

Darcy laughed, unrepentant. "No, just besotted, my love." He raised her hand to bestow a kiss.

Elizabeth shook her head, blushing. "You're incorrigible, Fitzwilliam."

"I suppose I am, Elizabeth." He rubbed his chin. "I believe Richard would be quite proud of me."

Darcy reveled in Elizabeth's bright laughter. He sighed in contentment. All was right in his world. As they neared the house, Elizabeth asked if he were going to talk to her Uncle.

He hesitated. As Elizabeth's guardian, he needed to be told of their understanding. But truth be told, he didn't wish to meet with the man. Since their meeting earlier in the week when he had confronted him with not being honest and diligent in finding John Williamson, their amicable relationship had withered. He was still angry over his duplicity about falsifying his reports. If not for Gardiner, they would have found Williamson within a few days after commencing the search, not weeks.

"Fitzwilliam?"

Elizabeth's hesitant voice brought him back to the present. He cleared his throat. "Yes, I will speak to him right now. Is he at home?"

Elizabeth nodded, searching his face. It was clear that he was uncomfortable and uneasy with the thought of conversing with her Uncle. She sighed. "I know that something happened between you, Fitzwilliam. My Uncle has been reserved and quite unlike himself this past week." In a quieter voice, she added, "It worries me."

Darcy stopped, turning to face Elizabeth. "Please don't worry, Elizabeth. Everything will be well."

Elizabeth nodded. She wanted to ask what had happened between them, but didn't feel it was her place. If Fitzwilliam wished to tell her, he would. They entered the house and were met by her Aunt.

"Lizzy, Mr Darcy! Have you? Are you?" inquired Mrs Gardiner, her face flushed with excitement, her eyes bright.

Elizabeth laughed. "Yes, Aunt. Mr Darcy has asked me to be his wife and I have accepted." Her heart swelled with happiness. She was engaged!

Elizabeth and Darcy accepted the effusions of happiness from Mrs Gardiner. Upon finding that Gardiner was indeed home, Darcy excused himself as Mrs Gardiner asked Elizabeth what had happened to her hair.

As Darcy walked down the hall to Gardiner's study, he grinned. He felt euphoric. That time with Elizabeth in the garden would forever stand as the moment his life truly began-when she had agreed to be his.

As he neared Gardiner's door, his mien turned serious. He would be quick and to the point. He didn't wish to be in Gardiner's presence any longer than he had to.

Moments later, Darcy stood facing Gardiner who invited him to take a seat. "No, thank you. I don't expect this to take long."

Gardiner raised his brows. "Very well. What is it you have to say, Darcy?"

"I wished to inform you that I have asked Elizabeth to marry me and she has accepted."

Gardiner stared at Darcy, an inscrutable expression on his face. He sighed and leaned forward, resting his clasped hands on the desk in front of him.

"I am glad, Darcy."

Darcy nodded and turned to go. His duty completed, he was eager to be back in Elizabeth's presence.

"Darcy, wait, if you please."

Darcy sighed, turning to face Gardiner, waiting for the older man to speak.

Without preamble, Gardiner spoke. "You found him, didn't you?"

Darcy clenched his jaw, his eyes hard. He should not be surprised. No doubt, Gardiner had men watching Williamson from the beginning.

Seeing Darcy's hard expression, Gardiner held up a hand. "I won't get in your way, Darcy." He ran a hand over his head, wearily. "I have had a lot of time to reflect on my actions, or lack thereof where Williamson is concerned." Gardiner raised his eyes to meet Darcy's.

"I know you are not pleased with me, Darcy. But like you, I just want to do what is best for Elizabeth. And I truly believe that things are best left as they are."

Darcy stared at Gardiner incredulously. "Better for whom, Gardiner? You?"

Gardiner shot Darcy an angry look. "Of course not! Remember, I have known and loved Elizabeth far longer than you, young man." He sat up, piercing Darcy with a pointed look. "I know what is best for her."

Darcy walked forward, staring down Gardiner. Stopping at the chair in front of Gardiner's desk, he leaned forward, resting his hands on the back of the chair, grateful there was a barrier between him and Gardiner. The man was deluding himself, using his affection for Elizabeth as an excuse for his deceptive behavior.

"I don't believe it, Gardiner," Darcy said in a tight voice. "I know fear when I see it. You don't want John Williamson found because you don't want Elizabeth to know what you did." Darcy paused briefly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Elizabeth knows that Williamson is directly connected to her mother, Gardiner. She has a right to know why her mother is the way she is. You _will_ give her the answers she seeks. You claim to love Elizabeth. But all I see is a selfish man who can't face his mistakes."

Gardiner stood, his face flushed with indignation. "You don't know what you're asking, Darcy! Elizabeth is a strong woman. She will soon be married to you and she need never see her mother again, if that is her wish. Why dredge up the past? Trust me, Darcy. No good will come of it."

Darcy clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay calm. "You know what irks me, Gardiner? Not three weeks ago, I stood in this very spot and you warned me that if I ever harmed Elizabeth I would have to answer to you. But I am not the one in danger of harming Elizabeth, Gardiner. You are."

Gardiner sat, raising his eyes to meet Darcy's steel blue gaze. He shook his head. "I don't see how it will help her, Darcy. Give me one good reason why Elizabeth should be told. It happened years ago! Between a man who is completely unconnected to her and her mother."

"You want a reason, Gardiner?" Darcy said, his voice strangely calm. "She needs to understand her mother."

Gardiner stared at Darcy disbelievingly. "Why? Why would Elizabeth want to understand the twisted mind of that bitter harpy?"

"So she can forgive her!" Darcy exclaimed, his eyes blazing with righteous indignation.

"Forgive her?" Gardiner whispered, his face pale. "Elizabeth wishes to _forgive_ her mother?"

Darcy nodded, confused by Gardiner's reaction. "Of course she does. Elizabeth believes in order to truly move past the hurt she has suffered at the hands of her mother, she has to let go of her anger and resentment. To truly heal, she needs to forgive."

"And to forgive her, she needs to understand what made her mother the way she is." Gardiner stated softly. He closed his eyes, overwhelmed by remorse and pain. "Oh, that dear girl."

Darcy breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He had to make Gardiner understand. He alone had the answers Elizabeth sought. He needed to realize that his silence was harming Elizabeth.

Gardiner raised his head, eyes filled with regret and self recrimination. "Darcy, I believed that I was protecting Elizabeth by keeping the truth from her. What good would it do for her to know? What's done is done. I can't change what I did. I have lived with the guilt that my actions have indirectly led to Elizabeth's mistreatment. But to discover that Elizabeth wishes to forgive her mother, when it is my fault?"

Darcy gazed at Gardiners dejected posture. He appeared to have aged ten years. "Gardiner," Darcy said, his tone gentle. "Tell Elizabeth. Not only for her sake, but yours as well."

Gardiner sighed deeply, resigned. "Very well. I will tell her the entirety of my history with John Williamson." With a wry smile, he added, "Although, perhaps not today?"

Darcy smiled. "Yes, I agree. I don't wish to mar the joyous occasion of our betrothal with unpleasantness."

Gardiner huffed a laugh. "We finally agree on something."

Darcy nodded, satisfied. Now, he just needed to tell Elizabeth that he had found Williamson.

"Thank you, Gardiner." Darcy hesitated briefly before adding, "I think you are being too hard on yourself. You are not responsible for Mrs Bennets treatment of Elizabeth, Gardiner. Her mother is. Don't blame yourself for her actions. Despite what you did, she chose to become bitter and resentful."

Gardiner gazed at Darcy, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Wise words for one so young, Darcy. Is that experience talking?"

Darcy nodded noncommittally.

Gardiner stood, coming around his desk to stand in front of Darcy, extending his hand in a gesture of good will. As Darcy shook his hand, he said, "Forgive a foolish old man, Darcy. I still have my reservations about telling Elizabeth. But if she believes it will help her, then I will not stand in her way."

"That's all I ask, Gardiner."

"Good. Now, I believe I will follow you out to congratulate my niece."

As they exited the study, Darcy turned to Gardiner and asked, "How did you know that Williamson had been found?"

"I received a note this morning from Jones informing me that he would not be here as usual." Gardiner leveled a look at Darcy. "From that, I deduced that it was due to him following another target. You are having Williamson followed, I hope?"

Darcy nodded, trying not to let his surprise show. "Of course."

Darcy paused at the threshold of the Drawing room, taking in the scene before him. He smiled as Elizabeth threw back her head and laughed at something her Aunt had said. He heard Gardiner pointedly clearing his throat behind him, and he stepped aside to allow him to pass into the room. He watched as Gardiner approached Elizabeth, kissing her on the cheek, speaking softly to her. When she raised her eyes to meet his, his heart sighed in contentment. He crossed the room to stand at her side, taking her hand to kiss it tenderly before placing it around his arm.

Elizabeth smiled brilliantly at Darcy. She felt the tension between him and her Uncle had eased considerably and she breathed a sigh of relief. She hoped that they had reconciled their differences. It hurt to see the man she loved and her beloved Uncle at odds.

"You'll stay for luncheon, Mr Darcy?" Mrs Gardiner asked with a bright smile.

Darcy bowed. "I would be delighted, Mrs Gardiner. Thank you."

Mrs Gardiner winked at Elizabeth before leaving to inform the housekeeper that there would be one more for luncheon.

Darcy turned to Elizabeth and asked, quietly, "I need to speak with you."

Elizabeth raised a brow, her eyes twinkling. "Indeed? I believe we have been speaking all morning, Mr Darcy. Haven't you run out of things to speak about yet?"

Darcy smiled, leaning in to whisper, "Never. I could spend an eternity with you, Elizabeth and still find things to say."

Elizabeth laughed, delighted at Fitzwilliam's teasing. "Well, then. What do you wish to discuss?"

Darcy gestured towards a settee away from her Uncle and sister. "Shall we sit?"

Elizabeth allowed Darcy to lead her to the sofa, blushing as he sat a little too close for propriety.

Darcy took a deep breath, turning to Elizabeth. He took her hand, squeezing it gently. "Elizabeth, I wanted to tell you that Williamson has been found."

Elizabeth blinked, trying to take in what he had just told her. He'd been found! She gripped Darcy's hand tightly, asking eagerly, "When?"

"Late last night, I received a message from one of my contacts. I am currently having two men follow him."

Elizabeth's brow lowered in confusion. "Why?"

"To determine if he is a threat." Darcy's gaze roamed Elizabeth's face trying to detect any signs of unease or apprehension. He was relieved that she appeared only pleased with the news.

"I see." Elizabeth bit her lip, glancing at her Uncle who was sitting across the room with her sister.

"He will tell you, Elizabeth," Darcy said quietly. "We decided that perhaps today would not be the right time. But if you wish..."

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, of course not. I trust that he will tell me." She smiled. "He did promise, after all."

"Yes, he did. And he will keep that promise," Darcy stated firmly.

"Then I am satisfied." Elizabeth squeezed Darcy's hand. "Thank you, Fitzwilliam. I know that it was a terrible inconvenience..."

Darcy shook his head, taking both Elizabeth's hands in his. "No, nothing for you is an inconvenience, Elizabeth. Please believe that. You need answers, and your Uncle promised you those answers after he was found. I simply did what was needed to ensure that it happened." He decided he would not tell Elizabeth what her Uncle did to prevent Williamson from being found. He knew it would be difficult for Gardiner to reveal his duplicity and he didn't want to make it harder for him.

Elizabeth gazed lovingly at Fitzwilliam. She felt her heart swell with pride that this man was hers. He was truly the best man she had ever known. She lifted her hand, gently caressing his face, "This is one of the reasons why I love you so, Fitzwilliam. You don't hesitate to help and protect the ones you care about." With a pointed look, she added, "Even when it is an inconvenience."

Darcy blinked, overcome with emotion at Elizabeth's honest declaration. He took Elizabeth's hand, placing a kiss on the inside of her wrist. Hoarsely, he said, 'Thank you, my love. You must know there is nothing I would not do for you."

Elizabeth smiled softly. "I know."

They were interrupted by Gardiner clearing his throat, shooting a displeased look at Darcy. "Sorry to intrude, but luncheon is ready."

Elizabeth blushed crimson. Would she ever learn? She took a deep breath and stood, taking Fitzwilliam's proffered arm and following her Uncle and sister into the small dining room. She smiled at Fitzwilliam as he took the seat next to her.

Darcy reached over and grabbed Elizabeth's hand under the table, interlacing his fingers with hers.

Conversation flowed naturally around the table as they ate until her Uncle asked when Darcy would be traveling to Longbourn to ask for Elizabeth's hand.

Elizabeth froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. She lowered her fork, glancing nervously at Fitzwilliam.

Darcy squeezed her hand, before responding, "Elizabeth and I have discussed this and decided it would be best to do it by letter."

Silence descended over the table. Elizabeth sat up straighter in her chair, prepared to defend their decision. She was right about this, she knew she was. If her mother found out...

Mrs Gardiner cleared her throat before clarifying, "By letter? Is that ah...the proper way to do this, do you think?"

Before Darcy could reply, Elizabeth said firmly, "It is, Aunt. I don't wish for my mother to find out until my father's consent has been granted and the settlement papers signed."

Gardiner looked at Darcy with lowered brows. "It is Bennets approval that you need, Darcy, not my sister's. Bennet is a reasonable man. He may feel slighted if you simply ask by letter. He will want to meet the man who has won his favorites heart."

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, Uncle. I have thought of all that. I will write my father and explain."

"Elizabeth," her Uncle said reassuringly, "He will not deny you anything. Especially, the man you have chosen to marry. I would reconsider, were I you."

Jane sat silently, listening to both sides. "Lizzy, I may have an idea. It would require some subterfuge, however."

Elizabeth raised her brow in amusement. "Very well, Jane. I will listen to your suggestion."

"Well," Jane began hesitantly. "What if Mr Darcy were to accompany us to Longbourn?"

Elizabeth frowned. "I already thought of that, Jane. Mama would know immediately why Mr Darcy was there, especially if he arrived with us."

"Exactly!" Jane said triumphantly.

Confused, Elizabeth said, "I don't follow, Jane."

Excitement infusing her features, Jane said, "What will mama think when she sees Mr Darcy?"

Elizabeth huffed in exasperation. "That he is there to ask papa for my hand."

"Lizzy," Jane said gently, "Think. Whose hand will she assume Mr Darcy is seeking?"

Elizabeth looked at her sister in growing astonishment. "Jane! That is brilliant!"

"I don't understand. Could you be a little less mysterious?" Darcy looked back and forth between the sisters. He was willing to entertain the idea of going to Longbourn. It didn't sit well with him to ask for Elizabeth's hand by mail. She deserved more respect. Besides, he wanted to look her father in the eye as he asked for his daughter's hand.

Elizabeth turned to Darcy, excitement making her face glow and her eyes sparkle. "My mother will automatically assume that you are there to ask for Jane's hand, not mine."

Mrs Gardiner laughed. "Well done, Jane! By the time your mama realizes that Mr Darcy is there for Lizzy, it will be too late for to object or hinder you in any way."

Gardiner was nodding his head, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Yes, this just might work." He directed his gaze to Elizabeth. "I would write your father and let him know beforehand, so he is not rendered speechless when Mr Darcy asks for your hand and not your sisters."

Elizabeth looked at Darcy, gauging his reaction. She knew that the deception would not sit well with him, even if it was to secure her hand without her mother knowing. "What do you think, Mr Darcy? Could you pretend to be Jane's betrothed until my father's consent is granted?"

Darcy looked into the hopeful eyes of Elizabeth and sighed. "Disguise of any sort is my abhorrence, Elizabeth. But, I see the merit in the plan. I will agree, if that is your wish."

Elizabeth bit her lip, considering. She knew it could be done. If she wrote her father as her Uncle suggested, her mother would be none the wiser. Her mother would be unhappy and likely make her life miserable until she were married...

Elizabeth gasped as she realized if Fitzwilliam came to Longbourn, they would not be married in three weeks.

In a quiet voice, she said, "We would have to delay our marriage for a few weeks, Fitzwilliam." She raised her eyes to his. "Could you wait a few more weeks?"

Darcy slowly nodded. He was disappointed of course, but he had waited eleven years for Elizabeth, he could wait a few more weeks. "Yes, you know I could. Just promise me that we won't have to wait long."

Elizabeth blushed and nodded. "Very well."

Elizabeth raised her head to meet the expectant gazes of her Aunt, Uncle and sister. She smiled. "We will do as you suggest, Jane. We will all leave for Longbourn in three weeks."

Some hours later, Elizabeth walked with Fitzwilliam to the door. He had spent the majority of the day with her and now it was time for him to leave so he could tell his sister and cousin of their betrothal.

Simmons handed Darcy his hat and gloves and with a bow and "Good day, sir," he turned and left. Elizabeth stared after Simmons retreating back in shock. She raised her eyes to meet Darcy's bemused gaze.

Realizing that they were alone, Elizabeth looked away, directing her attention to a nearby potted plant. In a bright voice, she said, "Please give my best to Georgiana, Fitzwilliam. And your cousin. I hope to see them both soon."

Darcy smiled at Elizabeth's nervousness. He deliberately placed his hat and gloves on an obliging entry table, before drawing closer to Elizabeth. In a low, intimate voice, he said, "Why so shy all of a sudden, my love?"

Elizabeth raised her eyes to meet his, her heart racing at his sudden nearness. With a tremulous voice, she said, "I am not being shy, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy raised his brows as he reached out to encircle her in his arms. "No? My mistake, my love. I am glad, as I am not feeling shy at all." Darcy lowered his head, placing soft kisses on her face. "In fact, I find that I very much wish to take advantage of this time alone." He pressed a kiss below her ear, whispering, " Don't you agree?"

Elizabeth trembled in his embrace, unable to utter a single word so she nodded her head.

Darcy smiled as he captured her lips in a lingering kiss. After some moments, he said in a distinctly unsteady voice, "Thank you, my love for making me the happiest of men."

Elizabeth smiled, smoothing back his hair from his face. "Thank you for making me the happiest of women."

Darcy gave a low laugh, lowering his head to kiss her again. "I must take my leave, Elizabeth. I will see you tomorrow, my love."

Elizabeth nodded her head, smiling. "Until tomorrow, Fitzwilliam."

As soon as Darcy arrived home, he went looking for Georgiana, knowing she would be nearly as happy as he that Elizabeth had agreed to be his. He found in her in her sitting room, sewing.

As soon as Georgiana saw him, she jumped up, exclaiming, "Where have you been, brother? I have been worried!"

Darcy looked at his sister in surprise. "I am sorry I worried you, dearest. I was securing you a sister."

It took a moment for his statement to sink in and when it finally registered, she shrieked. "Oh brother! You asked her? She said yes? I am to have a sister!" She hugged him fiercely before dancing around the room.

Darcy laughed at his sister's exuberance. "Yes, Elizabeth agreed to be my wife."

"Oh, then I forgive you for not being here." She gave him a censorious look. "I thought you said we could talk today."

Darcy closed his eyes. He had forgotten. He had been consumed with thoughts of Elizabeth. "Forgive me, Georgiana."

She waved her hand dismissively. "It is forgotten, brother. Nothing you do or say will ever vex me again, for you have given me my heart's desire! Tell me, how did you ask her? What did she say?" With a sly look, she asked, "Did you kiss her?"

Darcy leveled a stern look at his sister. "That, my dear sister is none of your business. All you need know is that she said yes."

Georgiana sighed dreamily. "You kissed her. I bet it was so romantic."

Darcy smiled. "She sends her regards."

"Oh! I must invite her for tea. She'll want a more thorough tour of our home, since it will soon be hers as well." She sighed happily. " I could show her mother's rooms, since they will be hers soon."

Darcy nodded his head. "That is a good idea, Georgiana. I'll leave it to you to make the arrangements?"

Georgiana nodded her head eagerly. "We should also have a family dinner to celebrate your engagement." She gave her brother a pointed look. "_Just_ family, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy raised his hands, laughing. "Agreed. Just family. Do you think you could handle being hostess?"

Georgiana stared at her brother, her face flushing with pleasure. "Could I? I think I would feel comfortable if it were just a family dinner. I so wish Lizzy to know how happy this news makes me, brother."

Darcy kissed his sister's forehead tenderly. "You will perform admirably, dearest. And if you have any questions or concerns, you can always ask for help."

Georgiana sighed. "Thank you, brother. You can't know how much this pleases me. What did Lizzy say when you told her about mother's dream and the picture she drew?"

Darcy stilled. He looked at his sister, eyes wide. "It didn't even cross my mind to tell her, Georgiana."

"But you will tell her, won't you, Fitzwilliam?"

Darcy nodded his head, his mind elsewhere. "Yes, yes, of course I will."

Darcy bid farewell to his sister, heading to his study. He retrieved Elizabeth's picture from his safe, sitting down before taking it into his hands. He lightly traced the contours of her beautiful face, knowing how it felt to actually caress her face. He hadn't thought about his mother's dream of Elizabeth for quite some time. He rubbed his chin. It seemed almost...inconsequential now that he knew her. Loved her.

He stood and began pacing. He knew Georgiana was right. He needed to tell her, but when? How? He shook his head, running his hands through his hair, smiling as he imagined Elizabeth's slender fingers performing the same task. He shook his head, bringing his mind back to his present dilemma. He knew with certainty that he loved Elizabeth, despite what his mother had seen in her dream. He also knew that even without knowing Elizabeth was meant to be his, he would have fallen in love with her anyway. Their connection could not be denied. She had felt it as strongly as he did. But would she believe that if he told her about his mother's dream of her?

Darcy picked up Elizabeth's picture to return it to his safe. He gazed out at the garden, his hands behind his back. He smiled. Elizabeth would love this garden. It was not as big as the one at the Gardiners, but it was more than adequate. He sighed deeply, coming to a decision. He would tell her after her father gave his consent, making their engagement official. At Longbourn. In three weeks. Decision made, he left to dress for dinner.

As he left his study, he saw Richard walking towards him, a bounce in his step.

"Darcy! There you are! Have a minute?"

Darcy stepped back in his study, ushering in his overly exuberant cousin. "For you Richard, I'll spare two minutes."

Richard laughed, entering Darcy's study and taking a seat. "How magnanimous of you, cousin."

Darcy smiled, raising his brows. "Well, what can I say? I am feeling rather generous at the moment."

Richard stared at Darcy, noting his content expression and relaxed demeanor. He exuded satisfaction. His eyes widened. "She said yes!"

Darcy laughed. "Did you doubt it, Richard? Of course she said yes."

He slapped Darcy on the back. "Well, congratulations, cousin. I am very happy for you." With a mischievous smile, he asked, "Did you seal your understanding with a kiss?"

Darcy rolled his eyes. Now he knew where Georgiana received her unhealthy and improper curiosity from. "I am not going to dignify that question with a response."

"You did," Richard stated with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows. "You look entirely too pleased."

Deciding to ignore Richard's prying, he asked, "You wished to talk?"

Richard leaned back in his chair, lacing his hands behind his head, his eyes bright with suppressed excitement.

Darcy raised his brows. "You seem particularly...giddy, Richard. Did something happen today?"

"You could say that."

Darcy waited for his cousin to elaborate. Instead, he just sat there grinning like a fool. He huffed in exasperation. "Well, are you going to share it with me?"

Richard grinned wider, leaning forward towards Darcy. "They're sending Perkins."

"Come again?"

"To the peninsula. They're sending Colonel Perkins. Not me."

Darcy stared at his cousin, letting the news penetrate his brain. "Truly? You don't have to go?"

Richard shook his head. "They still need someone in the War Office to coordinate and they choose me to remain."

Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. "That, Richard. Is good news."

Richard laughed. "Isn't it though?" He rubbed his hands together. "Do you know what this means, Darcy?"

Darcy smiled, deciding to humor his cousin. He was overjoyed that Richard would be far from the fighting. "No, what does it mean, Richard?"

"I am going to woo, Miss Bennet."

Darcy stared at Richard, blinking in confusion. "I'm sorry. Woo her?"

Richard rolled his eyes. "Really Darcy, is there no sense of the romantic in you? Poor Miss Elizabeth. Perhaps I should give you some pointers. Believe me, she'll thank you for it."

"Do you mean you plan on courting her?"

"Of course! Now that I know I am not leaving, I can look to my future. And I want that future to include Jane."

Darcy smiled and stood, holding out his hand. "Well, it's about time!"

Richard laughed, stood and grasped his cousin's outstretched hand. "I am overjoyed I won't have to ask Jane to wait for me, Darcy." He ran his hand through his hair. "Do you have any idea how relieved I am?"

"I can imagine, Richard. Truly, I am happy for you. Miss Bennet is a wonderful woman."

Richard puffed up with pride. "She is, isn't she?"

Darcy put an arm around Richard's shoulders, steering him towards the door. "I believe this calls for a celebration, Richard. Let's go tell Georgiana. With the news of my engagement to Elizabeth and the news you are about to impart, we'll have to peel her off the ceiling."

Richard laughed loudly as he followed his cousin out the door.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

John Williamson knew he was being followed. He ducked into an obscure shop, ignoring the proprietor asking if he could be of help. He peered out the dirty window to watch the two men who had been trailing him for the better part of an hour. They were across the street, watching the entrance to the shop.

What did they want? He rubbed his jaw absentmindedly. One of them looked familiar...he peered a little more closely at the man on the left. His eyes widened in sudden recognition. He was the same man he had seen trailing Gardiners daughters on several occasions. But why was he now following him?

In a moment of sudden clarity, it occurred to him that Gardiner must have been protecting his daughters for him. He smiled. Interesting. _Still trying to protect your secrets, Gardiner? _he muttered to himself. But why protect his daughters from him? It was time to make his move. He was tired of waiting. He was ready. Now that he knew Gardiner was having him followed it would make his plan that much easier. He just had to find someone willing to impersonate him for a morning.

He left the shop, ignoring the men who followed him, walking purposefully back to his boarding house. He had a message to write.

A/N: Well, a lot going on in this chapter. What do you think of Jane's plan for her to stand in as Darcy's betrothed? Will it fool their mother? And what do you think of Richard's news? I'm sure there is a fair amount of squealing going on with that little tidbit. (go ahead and do a happy dance, I won't mind ;)

So, we're getting closer to finding out about Mrs B past. What is JW planning? Who is the message to? It will all come to a head in about two chapters (I think). Hang in there, your patience will be rewarded. Although, just a reminder, the reason for Mrs B disdain towards E won't come to light until she returns to Longbourn.

Please review to feed my muse!

Much love,

MAH


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 28

Darcy was in a hurry. And invariably when one was in a hurry, events transpired to delay his departure even further. A mishap in the kitchen that morning had thrown his household staff into chaos, causing his valet to be late. He sighed, suppressing the urge to tell Stevenson to hurry with his morning shave. He knew there were some things that could not be rushed. Finally, he was groomed and ready for the day and he departed his room to break his fast.

Entering the breakfast room, he breathed a quiet sigh of relief that it was empty. He was eager to be with Elizabeth and the presence of his loquacious cousin would only delay his departure further. Richard, no doubt, was still sleeping off the effects of their celebration the night before. He smiled, reminiscing over Richard's...exuberant display the night before. Dinner had been a festive affair, celebrating his engagement to Elizabeth and Richard's news that he would remain at the War Office. After dinner, they had moved their celebration to the Drawing Room where Richard had requested Georgiana play all the love songs she knew in her repertoire. He had then proceeded to sing. Loudly. And off key. _Caterwauling indeed,_ Darcy mused silently. He hoped that Miss Bennet never had the misfortune to hear Richard sing.

As he finished his breakfast and stood to leave, Fletcher entered bearing a calling card. Darcy groaned at yet another delay. Who could be calling at this early hour?

Upon seeing the name on the card, he frowned. He looked at Fletcher, raising his brows. "Is he alone?"

Fletcher cracked the briefest smile, before adopting his customary solemn expression. "He is, sir. Mr Bingley is waiting in the library."

"Thank you, Fletcher. Would you be so good as to tell him I will be a moment longer?"

Fletcher bowed. "Of course, sir."

Darcy sighed heavily. He had a feeling this meeting with Bingley would not be brief, but he knew he needed to speak with him. He left the dining room, walking purposefully to the small conservatory adjacent to the garden at the back of Darcy House. Stopping in front of the bush containing his mother's red roses, he searched for the most perfect rose he could find. Perfect, just like his Elizabeth.

Rose in hand, he headed toward his study to write her a letter. He had decided years ago that he would continue the tradition his father had started. Since the day of his engagement to Lady Anne Fitzwilliam, George Darcy had written a letter to his wife every single day. He knew his father had continued the practice even after his mother had passed.

His letter to Elizabeth was brief, but heart felt. After signing and sealing the letter, he rang the bell. When Fletcher arrived, he handed him the rose and letter.

"Please see that this is delivered immediately to Miss Elizabeth."

Fletcher bowed. "Of course, sir." At the door, he paused and turned. "May I congratulate you, sir, on your engagement. We are all very pleased here at Darcy House and look forward to welcoming the new Mrs Darcy."

Darcy smiled, surprised at Fletcher uncharacteristic display of sentiment. Deeply moved, he bowed his head. "Thank you, Fletcher."

As soon as Fletcher left with the first of many letters he would write to Elizabeth, he sat back in his chair, preparing himself mentally and emotionally for his meeting with Bingley, knowing what he had to say would be difficult for him and for Bingley. He sighed and stood, walking with determined strides to the connecting door. The sooner his meeting with Bingley was over, the sooner he could be with Elizabeth.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Elizabeth stifled a yawn as she entered the breakfast room. She had received very little sleep the night before as Jane had been eager for details of Fitzwilliam's proposal and she had been too excited and euphoric over her recent engagement to sleep. She still couldn't believe that he had chosen her. Of all the accomplished, beautiful women of the _ton_, he wanted her to be his wife. She felt so very blessed that the man she loved unconditionally loved her in return. She sighed happily as she sat at the table, greeting her Aunt and Uncle.

Gardiner smiled at his niece over his coffee cup. "Good morning, Lizzy. Sleep well?"

Elizabeth shook her head, smiling sheepishly. "I confess, I didn't receive much sleep last night."

Mrs Gardiner smiled, her eyes twinkling. "That is understandable, my dear. As I recall, I didn't receive much sleep either after Edward proposed to me." She turned to her husband with a loving smile. "I was too happy with my good fortune."

Elizabeth laughed as her Uncle flushed a bright red. He winked at his wife. "I slept like a babe after your Aunt accepted me. It was the night before I proposed that I didn't receive a wink of sleep."

Mrs Gardiner shook her head in amusement. "Did you honestly think I would refuse you, Edward? I did, after all, give you a very clear indication of my regard."

Elizabeth looked at her Aunt, a curiously. "What did you give, Aunt?"

Mrs Gardiner raised her brows, and asked, teasingly, "Would you like to answer your niece, husband?"

Gardiner grumbled unintelligibly into his cup, his face red.

Elizabeth suddenly recalled something her Aunt had said when Fitzwilliam had sent her flowers. "A red tulip!" she declared. "You gave Uncle a red tulip!"

Mrs Gardiner laughed merrily. "I most certainly did! I was tired of his dithering. I knew he had developed an attachment to me, but he seemed determined to be obtuse."

Gardiner smiled tenderly at his wife. "You know it was more than that, Marianne. I knew what you would be giving up by marrying me. I didn't want to place you in an untenable situation."

Mrs Gardiner smiled at her husband, her eyes misty. "Which was why I gave you the red tulip, Edward. I had made my choice." In a softer voice, she added, "I would make the same choice again."

Elizabeth smiled at the obvious love and respect displayed between her Aunt and Uncle. She had always admired their relationship, secretly wishing that such an enduring love could be hers. Now it was. Her heart swelled with happiness as she thought of sharing her life with the man she loved deeply.

Elizabeth thought of Fitzwilliam as she ate. Glancing at the clock on the side board, she wondered when he would arrive today. She hoped now that they were engaged, although unofficially, he would arrive sooner than his customary one o'clock. Since the weather was fine, she hoped he would arrive before she took her customary morning walk so he could accompany her.

Recalling her inability to walk the day before due to her 'bodyguard' not being available, she turned to her Uncle with a hopeful smile. "Uncle, now that Mr Williamson has been found, is it really necessary to have a man follow me whenever I leave the house?"

Gardiner wiped his mouth before directing his attention to his niece. He thought for a moment, before responding. "Well, Lizzy. Mr Williamson is being followed by the men who were previously assigned to you, your sister and your Aunt. So, I suppose I feel comfortable with you venturing out, as long as you have a proper escort. If you wish to take your customary walk today, then I suggest you take a footman. Is that satisfactory?"

Elizabeth nodded happily. She understood the need for her bodyguard whenever she left the house, due to the uncertainty of Mr Williamson's intentions, but she had never felt comfortable with the arrangement. "Thank you, Uncle. I will be sure to have the proper escort if I leave the house. Hopefully, Mr Darcy will arrive and he can accompany me."

Mrs Gardiner smiled indulgently at her niece. "I am sure he will, Lizzy. Actually, I am surprised he has not arrived yet."

Before Elizabeth could respond, Simmons entered with the morning post. After distributing her Uncle and Aunt's correspondence, he walked towards her, a distinctive twinkle in his eye. As he neared, she could see what the silver tray held and she blushed.

"I believe this is for you, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth smiled, taking a beautiful red rose and letter from the tray Simmons presented to her. "Thank you, Simmons."

Elizabeth inhaled the fragrant scent of the rose, placing it carefully beside her plate before eagerly opening the letter.

_My Dearest Elizabeth, _

_This is the first of many letters I will write to you. My father wrote a letter to my mother every day, a tradition I am eager to adopt. Thank you, my love, for accepting my proposal. You have made me so very happy. I feel so blessed knowing you are mine to love and adore for the rest of my days. I promise I will strive each and every day to be worthy of your trust and your love. Your heart is safe with me, my Elizabeth as I treasure it above all else. Counting the moments until I see you again. _

_I remain, Forever yours, FD _

Elizabeth swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. Fitzwilliam's honest and sincere words had touched her deeply, especially since she knew he was such a private man, unused to expressing his feelings. He was a man of few words, but intense emotion. Was it any wonder that she loved him so? She refolded the letter with shaking hands, breathing deeply as she attempted to compose herself. What did she ever do to deserve him? She looked up, meeting her Aunt's affectionate gaze.

"I am overjoyed to see you so happy, Lizzy. Mr Darcy is a very lucky man."

Elizabeth looked down, shaking her head as she said, quietly, "I am the lucky one, Aunt."

Gardiner looked up from his correspondence, giving Elizabeth a pointed look. "Nonsense, my dear. Mr Darcy knows what a jewel he has found."

Mrs Gardiner nodded in agreement. "And you are worthy of him in every respect. You will make a wonderful Mistress of Pemberley."

Elizabeth's eyes lit up with mention of her soon-to-be home. "You have been there? Could you tell me about it?"

Mrs Gardiner smiled. "It has been many, many years, but yes, I have been there. I will tell you what I remember."

As they finished their breakfast, Elizabeth and her Aunt spent a pleasant quarter hour talking about Pemberley and its extensive grounds. It came as no surprise to Mrs Gardiner, that Elizabeth was more interested in the grounds and surrounding areas than the actual house.

"We need to start shopping for your trousseau as soon as possible, Lizzy," Mrs Gardiner said. "I think we could even get the majority of it completed before you return to Longbourn in three weeks."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement. "I will ask papa about it when I write him today."

Mrs Gardiner exchanged a weighted look with her husband before replying. "That won't be necessary, Lizzy. It has already been arranged."

Elizabeth looked back and forth between her Aunt and Uncle in bewilderment. "What do you mean? Have you already written to my father?"

"No, my dear. But the arrangements have been made. You don't need to bother your father." Gardiner smiled kindly before returning to the letter in his hand.

"But..." Her comment died in her throat at the look on her Uncle's face.

"Why Uncle! Whatever is the matter?" Elizabeth was startled to see his face was white, staring at the letter in his hand.

"Edward? What is it? Is it bad news?"

Elizabeth and her Aunt shared worried looks when he ignored their inquiries. They watched as he re-read the letter, before placing it down, running his hand over his face.

Abruptly he stood. "Please excuse me, but I must deal with this immediately." Without another word, he hastily exited the room.

Jane entered in the wake of Gardiners hasty departure. Seeing the stunned expressions on their faces, she exclaimed, "Whatever is the matter?"

Anxiously, Mrs Gardiner replied, "I hardly know, Jane." Standing, she said, distractedly, "Excuse me, girls."

Jane looked to her sister for an explanation, a perplexed look on her face. "Lizzy?"

Elizabeth told her sister what had happened prior to her entrance.

"Uncle didn't say anything?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, nothing."

"How peculiar." Jane sat down with her plate and began eating.

Elizabeth watched her sister for a moment before saying, hesitantly, "I believe it may have something to do with Mr Williamson."

Jane looked up from her plate, her eyes wide. "How do you know?"

"Just a feeling I have. I don't know what else would cause our normally imperturbable Uncle to become so discomposed. Do you?"

Jane shook her head, her brows furrowed in concern. "I just hope it isn't bad news."

"So do I, Jane. So do I."

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Taking a deep breath, Darcy opened the connecting door and entered the library. He paused briefly, silently observing his friend. He didn't look well. Bingley was sitting in a chair in front of the fireplace, his gaze unfocused, his eyes weary. He looked like he hadn't slept much the past few nights. Two nights to be exact. Since his sister's abysmal behavior at his birthday dinner. He sighed. It was not Bingley's fault that his sister was such a horror. He meant to send a message to Bingley yesterday, but with his engagement to Elizabeth all else seemed inconsequential.

Darcy cleared his throat before speaking. "Bingley. I apologize for keeping you waiting."

Bingley looked up, his tired gaze focusing on Darcy. He jumped up, nervously smoothing his disheveled hair. "Darcy, please forgive the early call. I wanted to be sure to catch you at home."

They entered Darcy's study and he sat, motioning for Bingley to take a seat across from him. Instead of sitting, he chose to pace, treading the same path Darcy did when he was agitated. Darcy waited patiently for his friend to speak.

"Darcy..." Bingley began haltingly. "I know that words seem inadequate in light of my sister's behavior the other night, but I wish to convey how sorry I am." He paused, running a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends. "I know I should not have brought her, but she was so insistent..."

Darcy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had watched for years while Bingley's sisters, especially Caroline had manipulated and coerced their brother into doing their bidding. He had hoped that over time, Bingley would have developed more confidence in himself. He was a smart man, but he was too soft-hearted. He didn't have the backbone to tell anyone no, least of all his sisters. Much to his disgust, he was certain that with the passing of Mrs Bingley, his sisters would use it to their advantage.

"Bingley, you are not responsible for the actions of your sister. It is true that I would have preferred that she remained at home. Especially in light of how she treated my betrothed."

Bingley's eyes lit up with pleasure. "So, you are to marry Miss Ben- I mean, Miss Elizabeth?"

Darcy smiled contentedly. "As of yesterday, we are engaged to be married."

Bingley gave Darcy a genuine smile. "I am happy for you, Darcy. She seems like a wonderful woman."

"She is, Bingley. I am indeed, very fortunate." Darcy took a deep breath, knowing what he had to say would be difficult for him and for his friend to hear. "Bingley." He waited until he met his gaze, before saying gravely, "In light of what happened the other night, I will no longer have anything to do with your sister. She will not be welcome into any of my homes, nor will I acknowledge our acquaintance. If this means that our friendship is at an end, then so be it. But know that I still consider you a friend."

Bingley's countenance fell and his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I don't blame you, Darcy. I understand." Straightening, he said, firmly, "However, I don't wish to sever our friendship."

Darcy nodded, pleased. He and Bingley had been through much together. Their bond of friendship had begun at Cambridge and been strengthened through mutual hardship. They had each helped the other after the passing of their fathers; Darcy's father passing within months of his finishing Cambridge and Bingley's barely a year later. He would have been grieved if he had decided to cut the friendship. But he would have done it without hesitation.

"I am glad, Bingley. I need you to understand that as long as your sister resides in your home, I will not step foot inside it. You are always welcome here or at Pemberley, but I will not subject myself to the machinations of your sister."

Bingley sighed heavily, sitting across from his friend. "Yes, I realize that." With a wry smile, he added, "I am not looking forward to telling Caroline of your engagement or your decision to end your acquaintance."

Darcy paused, considering carefully what he needed to say next, knowing it needed to be handled with delicacy. "Bingley, have you considered what you are going to do with your sister?"

"Do?" Bingley shook his head, a baffled expression on his face. "I don't understand. What you mean, Darcy?"

Darcy took a deep breath. "Your sister's behavior is out of control. The fact is, Bingley, she verbally attacked Elizabeth in front of not only my relatives, The Earl and Countess of Matlock, but the Viscount and Viscountess of Worthington, as well."

Darcy sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead, bracing himself for what he had to tell Bingley. With a piercing gaze, he said seriously, "By her actions, she has sealed her fate. When word of her behavior gets out, as it no doubt will, she will be shunned from polite society. You have to decide if you will stand with her and join in her alienation from society, or distance yourself from her."

Bingley looked at Darcy in dawning horror. "Is it as bad as that?"

Darcy nodded gravely. "I'm afraid so, Bingley."

Bingley huffed out a breath, standing to pace in growing agitation. Running his hands through his hair, he groaned. "What am I to do, Darcy? She is my sister! I can't cast her off!"

Darcy stood, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Bingley," he said quietly. "She has brought this on herself. She has deluded herself into thinking that she will be the next Mistress of Pemberley. Her actions bespeak desperation and quite frankly, an unbalanced mind. I have never given her the slightest indication that I ever thought of her as anything more than the sister of my dear friend. She needs to feel the consequences of her actions, Bingley."

"I know, Darcy." Bingley threw up his hands in exasperation. "I have tried, truly. I have told her time and time again that you would never offer for her, but she always insisted that I was wrong."

Darcy turned from his friend, walking to stand in front of the window looking out over the garden. He clasped his hands behind his back, his brow lowered in thought. He knew Bingley's attempts to correct his sister's erroneous assumptions over the past three years were half-hearted at best. He wished now that he had told Miss Bingley himself that he would never offer for her, as distasteful as that was. Although, if he had, she likely would have tried to compromise him. Her belief in her delusion was what kept him safe from her trying to force him to the altar.

He turned his head, studying his distressed friend. Besides Richard, Bingley was his closest friend and confidant. He wished to help him in any way he could. He just hoped his suggestions were taken as it was intended - a sincere desire to aid a friend in need.

"Bingley, I suggest you release your sisters dowry to her. With her money at her disposal, she can set up her own household, hire a companion and be completely independent from you. You can visit her on your terms. I believe you can still keep your sister in your life and continue to have a good standing in society."

With hope in his eyes, Bingley responded, "That is an excellent idea, Darcy! I don't know why I didn't think of it before." He ran his hand through his hair, his enthusiasm evident. "She is nearly twenty-seven, after all." He smiled, his eyes full of good humor. "Besides, I have been thinking it is time to settle down and marry. And can you imagine my sister turning over her role as mistress of my home to my wife?" He beamed at Darcy. "Thank you, my friend. I don't know what I'd do without your sound advice."

Darcy waved his hand. "Not at all, Bingley. But, it was only a suggestion. I am sure there are other options as well. She could still get married, you know." Darcy grimaced at the poor fool who would willingly marry that shrew. "Or perhaps your other sister could take her in..."

Bingley immediately shook his head. "No, no, that won't do. Louisa is just recently married, Darcy. I don't think Mr Hurst would appreciate having to adjust to married life with Caroline in the way."

"Besides, if what you say is true and Caroline is shunned from society, I doubt that Louisa will stand by her. She is very conscious of her social standing."

Darcy barely refrained from snorting. Apart from her younger sister, Louisa Hurst was one of the most vain, vapid, social climbers he had ever had the misfortune to meet. Separate, they were barely tolerable. Together, they were insufferable. He knew that the former Louisa Bingley had only married Mr Hurst because he was a gentleman of moderate means. He would not have been surprised if the marriage had come about due to a compromise. It never ceased to amaze him that Bingley was of the same blood as his sisters.

"Very well, Bingley. I suggest you implement the plan sooner rather than later."

Bingley smiled good naturedly. "Thank you again, Darcy. I feel much better." He shook his head in wonder, "A separate household. What a wonderful idea!"

Darcy refrained from laughing at the obvious look of relief and liberation on Bingley's face. He looked like a man who had received a second lease on life. He just hoped he went about telling his sister in the right way. He didn't doubt that Caroline Bingley would be fit for Bedlam once Bingley informed her of his decision.

"I say, Darcy?" Bingley tugged nervously on his hair. "I was wondering, that is, if you would be so good as to tell me..."

"Spit it out, Bingley." As much as he enjoyed being in Bingley's company, he wished to be with Elizabeth, not conversing with his amiable and good natured friend.

Bingley cleared his throat. "Is ah...Miss Bennet? That is, is she...?"

Darcy shook his head in amusement. Bingley was predictable to a fault. Why did his friend have to fall for every fair haired beauty that he met? He didn't think he could handle another of Bingley's 'angels.'

Deciding not to make it easy on him, Darcy asked, "Is Miss Bennet, what? My Elizabeth's sister? Kind? Accomplished?" Darcy looked at his hesitant friend, a playful gleam in his eye. If Bingley was showing interest in Miss Bennet, he would have to warn Richard. Again.

Bingley huffed. "Available. I meant, is Miss Bennet spoken for?"

Before Darcy could respond in the affirmative, that she was, indeed, spoken for, a knock sounded on his study door. He frowned. Fletcher knew not to bother him when he was with someone. "Come."

Fletcher entered, a slightly apologetic look on his face. "Forgive the intrusion, Mr Darcy. But this letter just arrived. The messenger said it was urgent."

When Darcy saw who it was from, his eyes widened in alarm. Not caring who was in the room, he tore open the missive, his chest constricting painfully, praying that it didn't contain bad news of Elizabeth.

_Darcy, Please come immediately. I have heard from JW. Gardiner_

Before he had even finished reading the brief note, Darcy walked towards the door, his mind in a tumult. Williamson had contacted Gardiner? For what purpose? Recalling his friend, he turned, meeting the astonished expressions of his friend and butler. "I apologize for my abrupt departure, Bingley. But I must leave at once."

He gave his butler the message from Gardiner. "Fletcher, please see that Colonel Fitzwilliam receives this immediately. And if you would, please see Mr Bingley out."

Not waiting for a reply, Darcy hastily exited his study.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Elizabeth returned to her room after breakfast to leave the rose and her letter from her betrothed. She had lingered, re-reading Fitzwilliam's beautiful message, committing to memory her very first love letter.

As she descended the stairs to wait for Fitzwilliam's arrival in the drawing room, she heard the distinct sound of the door knocker. She paused, an involuntary smile gracing her face. _Fitzwilliam._ He was here. She forced herself to descend at a dignified pace, resisting the urge to hurry. As she neared the bottom of the stairs, she heard his deep baritone voice greeting Simmons. At the sound of his voice, her heart rate picked up and she hurried down the last few steps, impatient to be in his presence.

As she reached the bottom step, Fitzwilliam looked up, meeting her gaze with such a look of adoration that she faltered slightly. Ignoring Simmons, she walked towards Fitzwilliam, her legs unsteady, her gaze never leaving his.

"Good morning, Elizabeth." Darcy greeted her softly, bringing her hand to his lips for a kiss.

Elizabeth smiled and remembering her manners, dropped into a curtsey. "Good morning, Fitzwilliam."

Simmons cleared his throat subtly behind them. "Miss Elizabeth, Mr Gardiner is expecting Mr Darcy in his study. Perhaps you could show him the way?"

Elizabeth blushed as Fitzwilliam gave Simmons a grateful look. "Of course."

Darcy placed Elizabeth's small hand in the crook of his elbow, bringing her close to his side. Turning to Simmons he said, "Colonel Fitzwilliam should be here shortly, Simmons."

"Very good, sir."

Darcy watched him leave, a small smile on his face. Leaning towards Elizabeth, he whispered, "That man deserves a raise."

Elizabeth arched a brow, responding impertinently, "Indeed, and how exactly do you suggest we tell my Uncle _why_ Simmons deserves a raise, Fitzwilliam?"

Darcy glanced down at Elizabeth, smiling at his beloved's teasing manner. "Well, perhaps a bonus then."

Elizabeth quietly laughed. She sighed in contentment as she glanced up at his handsome face. Softly, she asked, "My Uncle sent for you?"

"Yes." He paused briefly before adding, "It's about Williamson."

She nodded her head. "I thought as much. Will you be long with my Uncle?"

"I am not sure, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth sighed, hoping the situation with Mr Williamson was resolved quickly. She understood Fitzwilliam's desire to ascertain with absolute certainty that he didn't pose a threat, but she was impatient for the answers her Uncle had promised her.

As they neared the small alcove near her Uncle's study, Fitzwilliam quickly pulled her inside, drawing the drapes so they were hidden from prying eyes.

Being in a such a close, confined space with Fitzwilliam caused her heart to race in anticipation. They gazed at one another for a brief moment before he closed the short distance between them. As Fitzwilliam's lips met hers in a tender kiss, she closed her eyes, lost to everything but the exquisite feel of his lips on hers.

After a brief moment, they broke apart. Elizabeth slowly opened her eyes to meet his intense, ardent gaze. "Thank you for your beautiful letter and the rose, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy smiled, gently kissing her lips. "You are welcome, my love. I apologize it was so short." He leaned down placing a soft kiss along her jaw line. "I promise to make them longer in the future," he whispered, as he kissed her ear, before turning her head to the side and trailing kisses down her slender neck, breathing in her jasmine scent.

Elizabeth gasped softly, her pulse fluttering at the exquisite sensation, his kisses leaving her breathless. "No, Fitzwilliam. It was perfect."

Darcy rested his forehead against hers, slowly running his hands down her arms before interlacing his fingers with hers.

As their breathing returned to normal, Elizabeth asked, "Did your father really write to your mother every day?"

He nodded his head, leaning back so he could see her face. "Yes, he did. He was an early riser, whereas my mother was not. While she slept, he would write a letter for her to read when she woke up."

Elizabeth sighed, resting her head on Fitzwilliam's chest, bringing her hands up to lightly grasp his waist. "I think that is beautiful. He must have loved her very much."

Darcy encircled Elizabeth in his arms, placing a soft kiss on her temple. "Almost as much as I love you," he whispered.

Elizabeth looked up, her gaze melting into his. Wordlessly, she brought her hands up to cup his beloved face, bringing his head down to meet her waiting lips, tangling her hands in his hair. Fitzwilliam's passionate response left her weak in the knees and she was very grateful to be supported by his strong embrace.

"Elizabeth," Darcy said hoarsely. "I must go to your Uncle. I dare not linger with you here any longer or I fear he will take one look at me and call me out."

Elizabeth blushed as she nodded her head. Pressing a kiss to his ear, she whispered, "Come find me when you are done."

"I will." Darcy gave her a final lingering kiss before leaving the alcove. He tugged his jacket down and fingered his cravat as he walked towards Gardiners study door. Just as he was about to knock, he heard Elizabeth's frantic whisper, "Fitzwilliam, your hair!"

He turned to face Elizabeth who was biting her lip in an attempt to control her laughter, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

With a devious grin, he lowered his head towards her, raising his brows in an unspoken question.

Elizabeth shook her head, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You are shameless, Fitzwilliam."

"No, just besotted, my love." He waited, looking at her with an expectant look. "Besides, it's only fair, since you are the reason..."

Elizabeth huffed a laugh, closing the short distance between them. Giving him a look that told him to behave, she brought her hands up and quickly smoothed his hair. "There. Now, go find out why my Uncle called you here."

Darcy sobered immediately. He knew why Gardiner had sent for him. But he couldn't understand why Williamson had contacted Gardiner and not him. He was responsible for the men following him. He smiled wryly. _I guess Richard's plan didn't work out quite the way he expected. _ At least Gardiner had sent for him. After his duplicity in his efforts in finding Williamson, Darcy hadn't expected Gardiner to be forthcoming with any further information. Apparently, their conversation the day before had pricked his guilty conscience. Taking a deep breath, Darcy knocked on Gardiners study door.

When he entered, he immediately noticed that Gardiner was not in his customary place, seated behind his desk. Instead, he was pacing, a wild look in his eye.

Darcy walked confidently up to Gardiner and without preamble, asked, "What is this about Williamson contacting you, Gardiner?"

Gardiner paused long enough to thrust a crumpled letter into his hand, before resuming his frantic pacing. In a tense voice, he said, "Read that."

Darcy smoothed out the wrinkled page before reading the brief message.

_Gardiner, _

_It appears you have done well for yourself these past twenty-five years, despite your unscrupulous behavior. I am writing to inform you that I will call on you today, at 10 o'clock. Please do me the courtesy of being available when I call. I believe we have much to discuss, not the least of which is why you are having men follow me. J Williamson_

Darcy read the letter twice before looking up to meet Gardiners troubled gaze. "He is coming here in..." Darcy glanced at the clock, noting it was nearly half past nine. "Less than an hour."

Gardiner nodded slowly.

"What could he mean by contacting you? Why now?" Darcy wished to ask Gardiner what Williamson meant by his 'unscrupulous behavior,' but felt it was not his place. Besides, it was very possible Williamson could be lying. The tone of the letter was direct and designed to put Gardiner on his guard. Darcy didn't like it.

Gardiner sighed heavily, running his hand over his head. "I don't know, Darcy. I haven't had contact with that man in nearly twenty-five years. I admit, I am not prepared to face him."

Darcy tapped the letter against his palm, his brows lowered in thought. He looked at Gardiner, a sympathetic expression on his face. The man wore his guilt like an uncomfortable piece of clothing. "I had hoped that when Williamson realized he was being followed he would confront my men. They were instructed to give him my card with a request to meet with me."

Gardiners eyes widened in surprise. "Indeed? Well, I suppose you'll get your chance to talk to him when he arrives in about thirty minutes."

"My cousin should be joining us shortly." Darcy sat in a comfortable chair before the fireplace. "In the meantime, let's discuss how we wish to approach Williamson."

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

John Williamson waited patiently outside Gardiner's townhouse, tucked away in a convenient alleyway between two homes on the opposite side of the street. He checked his pocket watch again. Half past nine o'clock. The time he had spent watching the movements of Gardiners daughters was about to pay off. He knew that the young lady, who looked like his Fanny walked nearly every morning around this time. Oftentimes, she was accompanied by her sister. He scanned the front of Gardiners home again, satisfied that neither of the men hired to protect Gardiners daughters and wife were there. He breathed a sigh of relief. His subterfuge had been successful. The men were likely still following the man he had hired to impersonate him so he could leave his boardinghouse undetected. He smiled in satisfaction. Everything was falling into place.

Yesterday, when he realized he was being followed, he had felt unsettled. Who were they? Why were they following him? But then he had recognized one of the men. He knew immediately that Gardiner must be behind it. He had taken the men following him as an act of providence. It was perfect. If the men, previously assigned to protect Gardiners daughters were now following him, then that left the young ladies without their protectors. Unbeknownst to Gardiner, he had provided the perfect opportunity to meet his daughter. Alone.

Sending Gardiner that message had been risky, but he wanted Gardiner to be preoccupied and on his guard in anticipation of his appointment. Which he had no intention of keeping. It was a diversion, nothing more.

His head shot up as he heard Gardiners front door open. He held his breath as he watched Gardiners daughter, the one who looked so much like his Fanny, exit the house. He waited, hoping that all his planning had not been in vain. He had been worried when the tall, dark haired gentleman had arrived, although he had not been surprised to see him. His frequent presence at Gardiners indicated that the tall gentleman must be courting one of the daughters. He hoped the gentleman's early arrival was at the request of Gardiner due to his unexpected letter. It would foil his plan if the man accompanied the young lady on her daily walk. He breathed an audible sigh of relief as the only person to exit behind Gardiners daughter was a young woman, obviously a lady's maid.

He smiled in anticipation as he watched Gardiners daughter and her maid walk towards the park a few blocks away. A moment later, he discreetly began to follow them.

A/N: Uh oh, it looks like Elizabeth should have taken a footman with her, huh? So, did anyone guess that JW was sending his message to Gardiner? No? Oh goody, I love surprising you! We'll have to wait and see if his little diversion is successful and keeps Gardiner, Darcy and Col F occupied for the time he needs...Hmmm, what does he want with Elizabeth? Next chapter will be the big reveal. Gardiner will spill all his secrets...oh boy! *rubs hands together in anticipation*

I apologize for not posting last Saturday, but my excuse can be summed up in one word: SUMMER. I had a family BBQ, an unexpected trip to the ER (my little guy fell and split open his chin - poor boy!) and other fun, summer stuff. I just haven't had as much time to write as I normally do. Unfortunately, this week will be the same. I have a family reunion this weekend, so I will likely not post again until next week sometime. Besides, I want to take my time on the next chapter. You've all waited so patiently for what the heck is Mrs Bs problem, that I want to take my time and do it justice. Plus, there are a lot of little details that I need to get right.

A guest reviewer (THE READER) asked what inspired the relationship between Jane/Col Fitzwilliam. Honestly, it was one of those instances where the story takes on a life of its own. When I began writing this story, Jane and Col F as a potential couple wasn't even a glimmer in the deepest recesses of my mind. And then I found myself writing Jane's reaction to Col F when E asked what she thought of him and I thought, 'wouldn't it be awesome if Jane liked Col F despite all her attempts to convince herself otherwise?' And the more I thought about them as a potential couple, the more I liked it. I wish I could say I had a Col F/Jane/Bingley love triangle from the very beginning, but I would be lying. Believe it or not, I think the characters _wanted_ to be written in that particular way ;) That said, I have the love triangle all planned out. I know who Jane is going to end up with and how and when...And no, I can't be bribed into giving it away...but you can sure try :-)

Love you guys! Thanks for sticking with me despite my erratic posts. Please review!

Much love,

MAH


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 29

Elizabeth realized belatedly she had made a grave error in leaving the house without a proper escort. When Simmons had informed her that the footmen were otherwise occupied that morning, she had briefly considered foregoing her walk. But the crisp Spring morning had been too strong a temptation to resist. A quick turn about the park would be the perfect way to pass the time while Fitzwilliam was with her Uncle.

Besides, her Uncle had reassured her that Mr Williamson was being followed by two men and therefore, had felt the risk in leaving the house to be minimal. Despite the guilt she felt at not following her Uncle's instructions, she had justified her decision that she would not be gone long. Her reasoning, however sound it seemed at the time was irrelevant in this very moment. She stood, motionless, opposite Mr Williamson on the pathway, an inscrutable expression on his face.

"Miss Lizzy," Sarah whispered, uneasily. "Who's that?"

"Everything will be fine, Sarah," Elizabeth responded reassuringly. Her calm demeanor belied her deep anxiety, her heart thundering loudly in her ears. He took a tentative step towards them and her eyes widened and she involuntarily stepped back, her expression wary.

"We should go, Miss Lizzy." Sarah tugged on her arm, her eyes darting around nervously.

Elizabeth nodded in agreement. She should not have come. Would she ever learn to think before acting rashly? She turned to leave when he spoke, taking another hesitant step toward them.

"Please," he implored, his hand held out in supplication. "Don't go. Wait. Please."

The honest entreaty in his voice caused Elizabeth to pause mid-turn. She studied Mr Williamson more closely as he stood a few feet from her and was surprised to see that he appeared...unwell. His skin had an unhealthy pallor, his face gaunt. His remarkable green eyes were filled with pain and held dark circles underneath. Despite the cool morning, his forehead was beaded with perspiration, his breathing slightly labored. He was leaning heavily on a cane, his posture slightly bent. His clothes, although well-made, hung from his frame in a manner that indicated he had lost a fair amount of weight recently. His overall appearance suggested that he was a very ill man. She thought back to when she had first seen him at the Royal Menagerie. Had he been this ill then?

Elizabeth felt a wave of compassion sweep over her at his obvious ill health. He looked as if he carried a heavy burden, in mind as well as body. His expression held no malicious intent as she had expected. Instead, his eyes roamed her face eagerly. His gaze wistful. Nostalgic. Hopeful.

Forcing herself to stay calm, she took deep, even breaths. She reached over and took Sarah's arm, concerned that she was trembling. In a low voice, she whispered, "Sarah, I believe everything will be all right. I don't think he means any harm. Trust me."

"Are you sure, Miss Lizzy?"

Confidently, she nodded her head. Was she sure? She gazed at Mr Williamson again as he stood, motionless, in front of her, his attitude uncertain. He had made no threatening move towards them and he appeared to be harmless. But was he? Why was he here? If he wished her no harm then why approach her when she was alone? Where were the men that were supposed to be following him? Her eyes widened in dismay. Had he done something to them? She looked at Mr Williamson, the horror evident on her face.

Reading the unspoken question in her eyes, he said calmly, hand held out in front of him non-threateningly. "Miss Gardiner, I promise I mean you no harm. I just wish to speak with you. Please."

_Miss Gardiner?_ Her brow raised in surprise at his address. In an unsteady voice, she asked, "What do you want?"

He gazed at her steadfastly. "Absolution."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm afraid I don't understand, Mr Williamson."

His eyes widened in astonishment and he asked, incredulously, "You know who I am?"

Wordlessly, Elizabeth nodded.

He smiled deprecatingly. "I suppose I should not be surprised. Your father, no doubt told you all about me."

_Her father?_ Why did he think Uncle Gardiner was her father? She mentally shook her head. That was not important. She hoped Mr Williamson had the answers she sought.

Mr Williamson looked at her, suddenly uncertain. "Would you talk with me?" He gestured towards a small copse of trees off the pathway. "Alone?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened and she took an involuntary step backwards. "I don't think that would be proper, sir."

"Your maid may come with you. I promise, I mean you no harm, Miss Gardiner."

Elizabeth considered his request. She felt that he was not a threat, but how could she be sure? Turning to Sarah, she said in a quiet voice, "I'm going to talk with him." At Sarah's alarmed expression, she quickly reassured her. "You will come with me, but I would like to talk to him privately. If he does anything untoward, or seeks to harm me in any way I want to you to run as fast as you can to my Uncle and Mr Darcy. Do you understand?"

Sarah stared at her with wide, frightened eyes. "What about you, Miss Lizzy? If he tries to hurt you, what will you do if I leave?"

Elizabeth smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Sarah. We are in a fairly public place. I hardly think he would try anything with people within shouting distance." _But I don't believe it will come to that, _Elizabeth thought. He seemed too weak to try anything. Besides, she felt instinctively that Mr Williamson was truthful when he said he would not harm her. She desperately wished to know how he knew her mother. Would he be forthcoming with her?

"Very well, Miss Lizzy. I will do as you say." Sarah conceded reluctantly.

Elizabeth nodded. She turned to Mr Williamson. "I'm willing to speak with you, Mr Williamson."

He smiled and gestured with his free arm for her to precede him towards the hidden copse of trees. Elizabeth raised a brow and stood her ground. She was not that trusting.

With an understanding smile, he bowed and turned to walk ahead of her, his gait unsteady as he leaned heavily on his cane. After a brief moment, Elizabeth followed, Sarah closely behind her. She entered the copse of trees, taking in her surroundings. She was relieved to see that it was not as hidden as she previously had thought. It was private enough for their conversation, but still within sight of the pathway and any persons walking along it. Elizabeth made sure that Sarah was in plain sight of the pathway before walking further in.

"Very well, Mr Williamson, what do you wish to speak to me about? I admit I'm curious what you have to say to me. We have never met, after all."

Mr Williamson said nothing, just gazed at her, a soft expression on his face. In a voice, so quiet, Elizabeth almost didn't hear him, he whispered, "You even sound like her."

Was he was speaking of her mother? She felt her heart rate increase in excitement. Judging by the expression on his face he had cared for her mother, perhaps even loved her.

"Miss Gardiner, I apologize for approaching you this way, but I thought it best. Your father and I didn't part on the best of terms and I didn't think he would allow me anywhere near you." He started walking towards her but stopped when she moved away from him. He smiled reassuringly. "I apologize for making you uneasy that day at the Royal Menagerie. I was shocked at seeing you; a woman who looked uncannily like someone I once knew." In a quiet voice, he added, "Someone I loved."

Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath at the long held pain evident in Mr Williamson's eyes. He _had_ loved her mother? But what happened? Did her mother reject him?

"You said you are looking for absolution, Mr Williamson. But I don't see how I can grant you the forgiveness you seek."

"When I returned to England a little more than a month ago, I never dreamed that I would get this chance. When I saw you that day, I felt that God was granting me an opportunity to make things right. If I could confess my guilt to you, Miss Gardiner, it would be as if I was confessing to her. Then I won't be ashamed to meet her when I die."

He smiled sadly. "You never knew your Aunt, did you, Miss Gardiner? But she was...is everything to me. Even after all these years, my heart still belongs to her."

Elizabeth felt her throat tighten at his impassioned words. How could her mother have rejected such a love? Was that why she was so bitter, because she regretted her decision to marry her father?

"Mr Williamson," she began hesitantly. "You are mistaken about who I am. You are under the impression that I'm Mr Gardiners daughter, but I'm not. He is my Uncle, not my father."

Mr Williamson looked at her in confusion. "Gardiner is not your father, you say?" He rubbed his chin, lost in thought. "But I was sure you must be his daughter."

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, sir. I'm Miss Bennet, not Gardiner."

He raised his brows, surprise evident on his face. "Bennet?" Disbelievingly, he stated, "Your father is Mr Thomas Bennet of Longbourn."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement. "Yes, Mr Bennet is my father."

His brows lowered in bewilderment. "Well, I suppose he must have married Miss Julia."

Was he speaking of her Aunt Phillips? "I confess I'm confused, Mr Williamson. My Uncle's sister, Julia, married Mr Arthur Phillips."

"Miss Julia married Mr Phillips," he muttered under his breath.

Suddenly his head shot up, his expression one of horror and disbelief. Before Elizabeth knew what was happening, Mr Williamson grabbed her, his cane dropping to the ground. Forgotten. She cried out in pain as he gripped her upper arms, his eyes boring into hers with fierce intensity. Shaking her, he demanded in a low voice, "Who is your mother?"

Elizabeth stared at him in shock, gasping in pain. She was vaguely aware of Sarah squeaking in fright and running off. Her feeling of relief that Sarah had followed her instructions was short lived as Mr Williamson shook her again, gripping her arms harder.

"Your mother, Miss Bennet."

"Fanny," she whispered, gasping in pain as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her arms. "My mother is Fanny Gardiner."

He released her suddenly, causing her to stumble forward. He staggered back, his face ashen. He murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. "No. No, that's not possible." He looked at her, his eyes angry. "You are lying."

She shook her head as she rubbed her upper arms, wincing as her fingers touched the bruised skin. "I'm not. My mother is Miss Fanny Gardiner, now Mrs Thomas Bennet."

He stumbled away from her, shaking his head in incredulity and anger. His hands gripped his head, displacing his hat, it fell to the ground. Abandoned. "How? How is it possible that Fanny is your mother? He turned to her and cried in an agonized voice, "She's dead!"

Elizabeth held her breath. A weighted silence settled over the grove of trees in respect for his grief and pain. Even the birds stilled their morning song. Finally, she exhaled slowly. "She is not. My mother is very much alive, Mr Williamson."

He walked towards her, his gait unsteady and she retreated, stumbling in her haste to get away. "How?" he whispered, his voice full of anguish. "How is this possible?"

"Why do you think my mother died, Mr Williamson?"

In a brokenhearted voice, he responded, "He told me she had died."

"Who?" Elizabeth whispered, already knowing the answer.

He looked up, his eyes blazing with indignation. "Gardiner," he spat.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, unsurprised. Is this what her Uncle had been hiding all these years? She opened her eyes, to meet the grief-stricken gaze of a man broken. "Would you tell me what happened between you and my mother, Mr Williamson?"

He sighed, raising a trembling hand to his forehead. He didn't answer for a long moment. Finally, his shoulders slumped and he nodded wearily. "I will tell you, Miss Bennet." He raised his gaze to meet hers, his expression dejected. "But I fear it is not a happy tale."

"I understand."

He nodded. "Very well."

FEEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Darcy paced Gardiners study, glaring at the clock on the mantle. Williamson was late. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He exchanged a worried look with Richard who watched him as he paced around Gardiners study.

"Darcy. Take a seat. He will come."

Darcy glared at his cousin, his expression forbidding. "I'm not so sure, Richard. He would not be late." He ran his hand through his hair in growing agitation. "Have we heard from Jones or Hoskins?" He was relying on them to keep track of Williamson at all times. He didn't want to imagine what would happen if he slipped past them. At least he knew Elizabeth was safe here at Gardiners. He eyed the door, wishing he could step out and reassure himself that she was well.

Richard shook his head. "No, but perhaps they were delayed."

Gardiner stood to join Darcy. "Colonel Fitzwilliam is right, Darcy. He will come."

Just then, Simmons entered after a hasty knock on the door. "Forgive me, sir. But there's a Mr Jones and Mr Hoskins here to see you."

Darcy's eyes widened in alarm. "They're alone?"

"Yes, sir."

Gardiner gestured to Simmons, impatiently. "Well, have them come in and explain themselves."

Simmons bowed and exited, returning within moments with the two men. Darcy strode forward, his expression thunderous. "Well? Where is Williamson?"

They both shifted nervously before Jones responded. "He eluded us, sir. We followed who we thought was Williamson as he left the boarding house about an hour ago."

"Led us on a merry chase, he did," Hoskins added.

Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to control his temper. "You mean to tell me that you have been following a man for the past hour who is not Williamson?"

Jones nodded. "Yes, sir."

Richard stood, his expression threatening. "How could you let this happen?"

The men snapped to attention upon perceiving their former commanding officer. "Forgive us, Colonel Fitzwilliam, sir. We honestly didn't realize it was not him, until it was too late. The man wore the same coat and hat and everything."

Darcy looked at Gardiner. Tersely, he said, "I don't believe Williamson had any intention of coming, Gardiner."

Gardiner sat heavily in his chair, running a hand over his head. "No, I suppose you're right about that." He met Darcy's gaze. "But why? Why send me the message?"

"A diversion," Richard muttered quietly.

Darcy turned to stare at his cousin, his brows lowered in anger. "But why, Richard? What does he hope to accomplish by this ruse?"

Richard lowered his head, lost in thought. "He obviously had someone impersonate him, leaving the boardinghouse so he could leave undetected." He rubbed his chin, muttering, "He sent Gardiner a message informing him that he would be here at ten o'clock. He doesn't show up." He shook his head, and he threw up his hands in exasperation. "It doesn't make sense!" He turned to Jones and Hoskins who were waiting quietly, their faces identical expressions of chagrin. "Did you make yourselves obvious yesterday when you followed Williamson?"

Hoskins nodded. "Yes, Colonel. We followed your orders exactly as you said. He never confronted us, but returned to his boardinghouse and didn't leave until this morning." He paused. "Or, so we thought." He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Forgive us, Colonel. We failed you."

Richard stared at the men for a long moment, his expression inscrutable. Finally, he sighed. "No, you have done well, men. It was an easy mistake. We didn't anticipate that Williamson would be so devious. The fault is mine. I underestimated him."

"But where is he?" Darcy exclaimed. As he turned to leave the room, desperate to be in Elizabeth's presence to reassure himself that she was safe and well, the door burst open and a young maid stumbled in, gasping for breath. She was followed closely by Simmons, wearing a displeased expression on his face.

"Forgive me, sir. But Sarah insisted that she had to see you immediately."

Gardiner stood, astounded. "Sarah, what is the meaning of this?"

Sarah clutched her chest as she tried to catch her breath. "Forgive me, Mr Gardiner. But I had to come and get you right away. A man, Mr Williamson is with Miss Lizzy. She told me to come and get you if he tried to harm her in anyway. He.."

"What?" Darcy shouted. In two strides, he reached Sarah, grabbing her by the arm. In a tense voice, he asked, "Where is she? Where is Elizabeth?"

"Darcy!" Richard exclaimed. "Stop! You're frightening her."

Darcy dropped Sarah's arm, his face flushing. Moderating his tone, he said, "Forgive me, Miss Sarah." Staring at her intently, he asked again, in a firm voice, "Where is Elizabeth?"

Sarah stared at Darcy, blushing under his intense gaze. She stuttered, "I-in the p-park, sir. That man, Mr Williamson asked to speak with her and we followed him to a small grove of trees off the path."

Darcy didn't wait to hear any more. He left the room at a run, ignoring Richard and Gardiners pleas to wait. Wait? He couldn't wait! He had to get to her. Now. Sarah had said Williamson had harmed her? His heart dropped at the thought of Elizabeth alone and unprotected, and at the mercy of that man. What had he done to her? He leapt down the steps of Gardiners Town Home and began running towards the park, heedless of the astonished stares of passerby. His only thought was to get to Elizabeth as quickly as possible. His mind was in turmoil. Why would Elizabeth leave the house with only a maid? What had she been thinking? He prayed unceasingly as he ran that he would get there in time to stop whatever Williamson was planning.

As he neared the park, he slowed his pace slightly, frantically searching his memory of where there was a grove of trees off the pathway. A small voice from within whispered to go left, and he followed without a second thought. As he ran down the pathway, his eyes scanned both sides, searching. Up ahead, he spied what he hoped was the right place.

He veered off the path, entering the grove of trees. Hearing murmured voices somewhere up ahead, he walked quickly towards the sound, praying that he would find Elizabeth well and unharmed. He didn't dare contemplate what he would do if he found it otherwise. He came to a small clearing and he stopped, stunned at what he saw before him. As his mind processed what he was seeing, his eyes narrowed in anger and he strode forward, his gaze focused on his target.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Mr Williamson bent to retrieve his cane and hat before walking further into the grove of trees. Elizabeth followed him to a small clearing and a bench resting beneath an ancient Oak tree. She sat, conscious that she was now alone with a man she didn't know and couldn't entirely trust. She rubbed her upper arm, wincing slightly at the soreness. She knew that Sarah would tell Fitzwilliam what had happened. She hoped he came soon. She knew that whatever Mr Williamson had to tell her would be difficult for her to hear and she needed his strength, his solid presence by her side.

Mr Williamson sat on the bench, as far away from her as possible. He turned and noticing her movement, said remorsefully, "I apologize if I hurt you, Miss Bennet. I was just so surprised when you told me..." his voice trailed off, his expression one of pain, regret and anger.

Elizabeth lowered her head and said quietly, "I understand, Mr Williamson. I know it came as quite a shock to find that my mother is alive."

Mr Williamson took a deep breath and stood, gripping his cane tightly. He gazed up at the tree, his expression anguished. "I don't understand," he whispered. "Why didn't she wait?"

"I beg your pardon?" She unconsciously leaned forward, eager to hear whatever he had to say.

He shook his head, turning to look at her for a long moment, silent as he perused her face. Softly, he said, "You look remarkably like your mother, Miss Bennet." He paused, tilting his head to the side, his expression contemplative. "Except your eyes. Fanny's eyes are hazel. She had...has the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement, but remained silent. She didn't want to distract him with unnecessary questions.

Taking a deep breath, he began. "I met Miss Gardiner...Fanny, when I was twenty-one. Due to her father's failing health, I was hired to be a clerk in his office. In addition to hiring me, he took on Mr Arthur Phillips, a young solicitor." He turned his gaze to her. "He married Miss Julia?"

"Yes. Mr Phillips is my Uncle. He took over my grandfather's practice after he died."

"Yes, I imagine he did. That was why he was hired, after all. By that time, your Uncle had decided he didn't wish to follow in his father's footsteps." He sighed. "Edward Gardiner had already left home by the time I arrived in Meryton."

Mr Williamson sat on the bench, taking a handkerchief from his inner coat pocket to wipe the moisture from his forehead. Elizabeth watched in concern. He seemed so weak, so ill. She opened her mouth to ask if he was well, when he continued.

"I met the young Miss Gardiner the first day I arrived." His gaze softened, his expression wistful at the long held memory. "Fanny was just sixteen and the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. My heart was lost to her the moment I laid eyes on her."

Elizabeth swallowed, her heart beating furiously. She was right, he had loved her mother. Had she rejected him? Found him unworthy of her love? Had they been driven apart? If so, why? Why had her Uncle told Mr Williamson that her mother had died?

"Those two years I spent in Meryton were the happiest of my life. Each day I spent in her presence was a gift. Her bright and lively spirit was the perfect complement to my more serious and reserved nature. Her laughter warmed my heart and made me feel alive." He closed his eyes, a soft smile on his face as he reminisced. "After loving her from afar for over a year, she finally let me know that she felt the same." He opened his eyes, and realizing whom he was talking to, he flushed a bright red. He cleared his throat, shifting on the bench. "When I realized she returned my love I immediately asked her to marry me."

Elizabeth's mouth dropped open in shock. Her mother had been engaged to this man? Did her father know?

Seeing her shocked expression, he laughed wryly. "I see you are surprised, Miss Bennet." Looking down, his posture dejected, he whispered, "Now you can imagine my shock when I learn that not only is she alive but that she married someone else. That she didn't wait for me."

"What happened, Mr Williamson?" Elizabeth asked gently.

"Mr Gardiners health worsened and he sent for his son." His expression darkened at the mention of her Uncle. "The day after your Uncle arrived home, Mr Gardiner died." He rubbed his forehead, his countenance despondent. "Your grandfather was a good man, an honorable man, Miss Bennet. I wish you could have known him."

Hesitantly, Elizabeth asked, "Did my grandfather know that you wished to marry?"

He shook his head. "No, Fanny thought it best to wait." In a voice almost too quiet for her to hear, he added, "I wonder if things would have been different if he had known."

"What do you mean?"

He smiled at her. "Just that I knew that he liked me, approved of me. I didn't want to hide our relationship, but Fanny was adamant. She said she knew her father would not like it." He shook his head, "To this day, I still don't believe he would have rejected my suit."

"After the burial of her father, Fanny became despondent. She loved her father dearly and his death was extremely hard on her. In desperation, her brother arranged for Fanny, Miss Julia and their mother to go to Bath. He thought the change would be good for them." Here he paused and his expression became mournful. "Little did I know that when I bid her farewell, I would never see her again."

"But why did you leave if you loved her so much?" Elizabeth cried.

Mr Williamson gazed at Elizabeth sadly. "Edward didn't follow his family to Bath under the pretense that he had some of his father's affairs to settle. I now suspect that he remained for one purpose and one purpose only." His gaze bore into hers. "To convince me to leave Meryton. Leave Fanny. He had found out about our secret engagement, how I don't know." He ran his hand through his sparse hair. "He told me that he couldn't agree to our marriage unless I proved myself worthy of Fanny. I told him that I wished to become a solicitor, that his father had encouraged me to do so. He convinced me to leave and pursue that course of action."

"I wished to remain in Meryton until Fanny returned to explain my plans, but Edward told me it would be better if I left right away. He said Fanny would try to convince me to stay, that my resolve to leave might waver if faced with her opposition." He sighed heavily, leaning forward, both hands on the cane in front of him.

"So, I left a letter for Fanny explaining my decision and reason for leaving. I clearly stated my intent to return for her and I asked her to wait for me." He turned and gazed at Elizabeth with anguish, his eyes seeking for understanding for his misjudgment. "Edward assured me he would give her the letter when she returned from Bath." Looking down, he whispered. "A mistake I will regret until the day I die."

Elizabeth looked at Mr Williamson in dawning horror. "She never received your letter, did she?"

He was quiet, a deep sadness in his green eyes. He sighed heavily. "I'm not sure, Miss Bennet. But now, knowing that Fanny didn't wait for me. I must conclude that no, she didn't receive my letter. At the time, I trusted your Uncle. I had no reason not to. He was so supportive, so understanding when he told me he knew about Fanny and I." In a harsh voice, he added, "He even gave me some money to help me. No doubt to assuage the guilt he felt."

Elizabeth closed her eyes, unable to witness the stark anguish on his face. After a moment, she felt brave enough to ask, "What happened after you left Meryton? How did my Uncle tell you that my mother had died?"

Mr Williamson didn't respond immediately, and Elizabeth waited patiently for him to answer her question. She watched as a myriad of emotions passed over his face: grief, pain, regret, but also anger and determination. His gaze focused on her face and in a broken-hearted voice he related what she suspected was the most difficult part of his tale.

"In my letter to Fanny, I left my address here in London, so she could write me. I wrote her nearly every day. After two months, when I didn't hear from her, I decided to travel to Meryton." He stood and began pacing, his demeanor agitated and distraught. "Before I could travel to Meryton, however, I ran into Gardiner." He laughed wryly. "I now wonder if it was by happenstance as I originally thought or by design. He invited me to a nearby inn so we could talk. He seemed so somber, so grave that I knew that something terrible had happened."

Derisively, he said, "Now I know that his grave demeanor was due to nervousness and fear, not grief." He turned to her, his eyes fierce. "He lied, Miss Bennet. He sat in that inn and lied to me, knowing that the knowledge that he imparted would turn me into a broken man. With tears in his eyes, he told me that after Fanny returned from Bath, she contracted a fever and died." His head fell to his chest as if he no longer had the strength to hold it up.

Elizabeth's heart went out to the distraught man before her. For twenty-five years he had lived with the knowledge that the woman he loved had died. She couldn't contemplate the pain and anguish he had endured. Now, to know that it had all been a lie...

"I accused Gardiner." He rubbed his forehead in agitation. "I don't recall everything I shouted at him in my grief and pain. But I know I blamed him for her death and for making me leave. In my grief-stricken mind I believed that if I hadn't left, she would still be alive. I hated myself for not waiting, for listening to Gardiner. I believe I even accused him of conspiring with Bennet to get Fanny away from me so he could marry her instead." He smiled wryly. "Perhaps, I was not too far off the mark? It's now quite apparent that Gardiner lied because he wanted Fanny to marry Bennet. I have my suspicions about that, but I have no proof."

Elizabeth's mind was reeling. She was shocked and grieved that her Uncle could perpetuate such a deception. That he had knowingly separated a couple who loved one another. Did he really think Mr Williamson was not good enough for her mother? Somehow, she knew it went deeper than that. She wanted to ask what Mr Williamson meant by his last cryptic comment, but she refrained. She didn't think she could take anymore.

With alarm, she realized that Mr Williamson was extremely pale and sweating profusely. His breath was labored and he appeared about to faint. He clutched his side, his face contorted in pain.

"Mr Williamson, are you well? Can I do something for you?"

"No," he gasped. "I have simply missed my dosage of medicine. It will pass."

"Can I fetch someone for you? Call a doctor, perhaps? Indeed, you look very ill, sir." Elizabeth was worried as she watched him bend over, gasping in pain.

"I have seen doctors, Miss Bennet. Many, many doctors. It will make no difference. They all say the same thing."

"What? What do they say?"

He looked at her gravely as he forced himself upright, breathing heavily. "That I'm dying, Miss Bennet. I have not long for this world."

Elizabeth's eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you sure, sir? Can nothing be done?"

"No, nothing can be done. The doctors are amazed I have lasted this long." He breathed deeply. "After twenty-five years of self-imposed exile, I have returned to the land of my birth, to die." He smiled, his eyes full of grief and regret. "I wanted to be buried under the same soil as my beloved Fanny."

Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears at the injustice of it all. After everything this man had gone through, he had to suffer in body as well as in spirit and mind. "I'm so sorry, Mr Williamson."

"Your compassion does you credit, Miss Bennet." He smiled, his gaze soft. "You must be a great comfort to your mother."

Elizabeth looked away so he would not see the pain in her eyes at his innocent and erroneous statement.

"Mr Williamson, now that you know my mother is alive. What are you going to do?" Elizabeth held her breath as he contemplated her question. Would he try to see her mother, contact her in some way? How would it affect Mr Williamson to know there was little left of the Fanny he had known so long ago; that her disappointment had left her bitter and resentful.

"Ah, Miss Bennet," he gave her a gentle smile. "When I realized I was dying, I had one wish, to absolve myself of the guilt I felt with abandoning Fanny, for allowing myself to be persuaded by another to leave, when I should have stayed." He shook his head and sighed. "And now?" He shrugged, his expression resigned. "I suppose I will do nothing. She has made a life for herself. She has a husband. Children."

Elizabeth swallowed back what she wished to say and nodded her head. Mr Williamson was looking for absolution, for closure before he died. Would not her mother benefit from the knowledge that this man, sitting so grave and grief-stricken beside her, had not abandoned her like she believed? For she believed that her mother must not have received the letter he had written and left with her Uncle; her bitterness and resentment stemmed from thinking she had been abandoned.

Mr Williamson stared at her, silent and grave. Hesitantly, he reached out, lightly touching her cheek with the barest pressure of his fingertips. "So beautiful," he whispered. "It is strange to think in another life, you could have been my daughter." He straightened, his eyes full of regret. "You should have been my daughter."

"Williamson!"

Elizabeth's head whipped around at Fitzwilliam's shout. She stood, relief suffusing her face. Her relief quickly turned to alarm at the look of fury on his face as he stalked purposefully toward Mr Williamson.

Mr Williamson stood, gripping his cane, his posture unsteady, his eyes filled with fear. Elizabeth, realizing Fitzwilliam's intent to harm him, held out her hands to halt his progress. "Mr Darcy, wait! Please, don't hurt him!"

Elizabeth grabbed Fitzwilliam's arm, trying to prevent him from hitting Mr Williamson, but it was like pulling on a deep rooted tree. "Fitzwilliam! Stop!"

Darcy stood inches from Williamson, his fists clenched, breathing heavily. He was vaguely aware of Elizabeth trying to pull him away but he was too angry, too incensed. "How dare you lay a hand on her?" He hissed in a low, menacing voice.

Elizabeth gripped his arm. "Please, Fitzwilliam. We were just talking. He didn't mean any harm."

He turned to Elizabeth, his eyes perusing her face, before scanning her from head to foot. He reached out grasping her arms. "Are you well, Elizabeth? What did he do?"

Elizabeth sucked in a breath at the pressure on her arms, still tender from when Mr Williamson had grabbed her earlier. She responded, soothingly, "I am well, Fitzwilliam. He didn't do anything. He just wished to talk to me."

Darcy looked at her in disbelief. "Elizabeth, he sent a message to your Uncle telling him he was going to arrive at ten to talk to him. It was a ruse, a deception. He watched and waited for you to be alone. And you're telling me he just wanted to talk?"

"Yes," Elizabeth said gently, her eyes pleading with him to understand. "Please, Fitzwilliam. Can't you see he is in no position to harm anyone? He is ill, dying. He just wanted to talk to me. That is all."

Darcy relaxed slightly at her words and that she did, in fact, appear unharmed. "But Sarah said that he hurt you."

Elizabeth shook her head. "He grabbed me when he discovered something that distressed him, but he didn't do it out of ill intent. He apologized."

"Elizabeth," Darcy growled, running his hands up and down her arms. "Why did you leave the house?" he asked fiercely. He wanted to shake her for causing him alarm, but the emotion he was feeling most at this moment was relief.

"I always go for a walk in the morning, Fitzwilliam. If you hadn't been with my Uncle, I would have asked you to accompany me."

Elizabeth looked at Mr Williamson. Seeing his ashen face, she cried out in alarm, "Mr Williamson? Are you well?" She turned to Fitzwilliam. "Help him! He is ill, Fitzwilliam. We should send for a doctor."

Mr Williamson looked at Elizabeth, his eyes full of renewed anguish. "Elizabeth? Did I just hear this gentleman call you, Elizabeth?"

Confused, she nodded. "Yes, my name is Elizabeth."

Mr Williamson closed his eyes, bowing his head. In an agonized voice, he whispered, "Oh, Fanny!"

Darcy looked at Elizabeth, his expression bewildered. Seeing his confusion, she shook her head for him to remain silent.

"Mr Williamson," she asked gently, "Why does my name cause you such distress?"

He shook his head, sorrow evident on his pallid face. "I should not have come. This was a mistake."

Darcy didn't say anything, but he agreed, wholeheartedly. He just wanted Elizabeth back at her Uncle's; safe behind closed, locked doors.

Elizabeth started as Mr Williamson staggered away from her, headed back to the main pathway. "Wait! Mr Williamson!" She went to follow him but was held back by Fitzwilliam. She turned on him, her expression angry. "Let go, Fitzwilliam!" she cried. "I told you, he means no harm. Can't you see he is suffering?"

"Elizabeth," Darcy implored. "Please. Do you know how worried I have been? Imagining the worst?"

Elizabeth gazed into his eyes, clearly seeing his fear, his worry. For her. She leaned up, allowing her lips to communicate when mere words were not enough. She poured all the love and gratitude she felt into her kiss for this fiercely stubborn, wonderfully protective, extremely passionate man. Burying her head in his chest, she closed her eyes, listening to his racing heartbeat. Finally, she felt Fitzwilliam nod. She expressed her gratitude with a soft kiss before turning to follow after Mr Williamson, hoping he had not gone far.

She halted, blushing crimson when she realized Mr Williamson had witnessed their impassioned display. He had not left the clearing, but was waiting some distance away. As he slowly walked towards her, she felt Fitzwilliam tense beside her and she laid a reassuring hand on his arm. As he neared, she took a step towards him, wishing to say something, anything to give him comfort. Before she could utter a word, he spoke.

"Tell me she is happy, Miss Bennet...Elizabeth." His voice was a plea, begging for her to release him, to absolve him of the guilt he had carried for twenty-five years. To reassure his troubled mind that despite leaving Fanny, she had found peace, happiness with another man. What could she say? Should she lie?

Her face must have betrayed the truth, because his head dropped and he exclaimed in the voice of a tormented soul, "I am a fool! Forgive me, Fanny. Forgive me!" He walked slowly towards her, his gaze anguished. Wordlessly, he removed a ring from his right hand and held it out to her. She took it. Looking down, she saw it was a black mourning ring adorned with a lock of hair. She sucked in a breath, knowing it was her mother's hair. She looked up, searching Mr Williamson's face for confirmation.

"I have mourned Fanny these twenty-five years, Miss Bennet. I have stayed true to her all this time." He sighed. "I can't blame her for marrying your father. But I will never forgive myself for believing Gardiner so readily. I should have gone back! Instead I fled to Scotland like a coward! Gardiner was right. I didn't deserve her."

Before Elizabeth could utter a word in response, he looked at Fitzwilliam and in an intense voice, said, "Take care of Elizabeth, sir. Don't let anyone or anything keep you apart." With one last, lingering glance at Elizabeth he bowed and left. In seconds, he was gone from view.

Elizabeth released the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Her heart ached, her mind in turmoil. Gazing at the ring in her hand, she closed her fist around it, feeling it dig into the soft flesh of her palm. She looked at Fitzwilliam, her eyes filled with resolve. It was time to talk to her Uncle.

A/N: *peers out nervously behind her oh-so-strong-husband* Please, please don't hate me? I know I said you would get the entirety of the Mrs B/JW/Gardiner secret this chapter, but the second half is just not where I want it yet. I want to take my time and get it just right. You deserve nothing but my best. Besides, this would have been another epically long chapter (not that you would have complained, right?) So, please forgive me?

So, what did you think? Did I surprise anyone? I'm sure there are many of you that are thinking: I knew it! But hopefully I was able to surprise a fair amount of you as well. **Please review** and tell me what you thought. I KNOW you have something to say about JW confession - pretty heartbreaking, huh? Why was JW so distressed to discover her name was Elizabeth? More secrets I know-but they're just so much fun! I will say that what happened between JW and Fanny is a foreshadowing of things to come...but that's all I'm going to say about that!

Why do you think Gardiner lied to JW? Why did he separate him from Fanny? What is he hiding? Stay tuned...

Love you guys! Please review and tell me your thoughts!

MAH


	31. Chapter 31

Please see added A/N addendum at bottom - added 8/12/15

Chapter 30

Pandemonium greeted Elizabeth and Darcy when they entered the town house a short time later. She took a deep breath as her Aunt and sister converged on her, wearing identical expressions of alarm mingled with relief. Removing her outerwear, she was quick to reassure them that she was indeed, well and unharmed. Keeping a tight grasp on the ring in her right hand, she searched for her Uncle. He was standing off to the side away from the commotion caused by his wife and niece, his expression grave. She held his gaze as she attempted to answer the many questions from her Aunt and sister. She was eager to hear what her Uncle had to say of his despicable behavior towards Mr Williamson and her mother. He had much to answer for and she would not allow him to prevaricate any longer. She would receive the answers she sought. Today.

Seeing the resolve and determination in her eyes, Gardiners expression changed to one of resignation. He was relieved that Elizabeth was back safe and unharmed. Awaiting word while Darcy and then Jones and Hoskins had left to find Elizabeth had been agonizing. He never would have forgiven himself if his mistakes so long ago had led to Elizabeth being harmed in any way by that man. He sighed deeply. Now, it was time to keep the promise he had made to his niece. He offered a silent prayer for the words and the courage to relate his part in that sad tale; for the next hour would be the most difficult of his life. Giving his niece a brief nod, he turned and proceeded to his study, knowing she would follow shortly.

After promising her Aunt and Jane a more thorough explanation of her meeting with Mr Williamson, she moved towards her Uncle's study with a single-minded purpose. Each time she felt her resolve falter in confronting her Uncle, she remembered the grief stricken expression on Mr Williamson's face and her fist tightened around the ring she clutched in her right hand. Fitzwilliam had followed her, and she was thankful for his strong, calming presence at her side.

She looked at him as he walked silently beside her and in a quiet voice, asked, "Will you stay with me?"

"Of course, if you wish it," he replied.

She nodded, bestowing a grateful smile.

He opened his mouth to say something, but immediately closed it again, shaking his head, his expression conflicted.

Elizabeth gave him a questioning look. "If you have something to say, Fitzwilliam, please say it. I'm not inclined at present to have secrets or things unsaid kept from me."

Darcy ran a hand through his wind blown hair, considering his words carefully. "I don't know all that Williamson told you, Elizabeth." He sighed, his expression one of deep concern. "But I know that it distressed you. And I know what your Uncle has to say will cause you further distress." He stopped, bringing her hand to his lips for a gentle kiss before clasping it to his heart. "It just pains me to see you so upset, my love."

Elizabeth smiled tenderly at the man she loved with all her heart. "Fitzwilliam, I know the truth will be difficult, but I need to hear it." With conviction, she added, her expression pleading, "I _have_ to know, Fitzwilliam. Please. Try to understand."

Darcy's gaze softened as he looked into Elizabeth's expressive brown eyes. Usually they were filled with light and laughter, but today her beautiful eyes were filled with sadness and pain. If the truth eased her heart and settled her troubled mind, then he would stand by her side as she learned that terrible truth. "I do understand, my love. And I'm here for you. Always."

Elizabeth felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes, love filling her heart for this wonderful, good man. "Thank you," she choked.

Wordlessly, his gaze never leaving hers, Darcy kissed her hand again before interlacing his fingers with hers.

As they neared her Uncle's study door, Fitzwilliam squeezed her hand before reluctantly letting go. She smiled up at him, confident she could face anything with him by her side. Taking a deep breath, she knocked firmly before opening the door. She strode in, head held high, her unwavering gaze fixed on her Uncle. Seeing the look of despondency on his face caused her to falter, her confident step wavering in the face of his despair. Squeezing the ring in the palm of her hand to give her courage, she stood in front of her Uncle's desk, her eyes filled with quiet determination.

Her Uncle gazed up at her from his seated position behind his desk. "I'm relieved to see you are well and unharmed, Lizzy." He sighed, rubbing his forehead and in a resigned voice, said, "I know you are here for answers. We might as well be comfortable." He stood, gesturing to the sofa and chairs before the fireplace.

As he walked to take a seat he gave Darcy a pointed look. "I don't believe this concerns you, Darcy." He gestured towards the door.

Darcy stared at Gardiner incredulously. Everything that involved Elizabeth concerned him! Did he really think he could just dismiss him? Before he could respond, Elizabeth laid a gentle hand on his forearm.

"I wish Mr Darcy to remain, Uncle." She raised her chin, her eyes slightly defiant.

Gardiner sighed heavily. "As you wish."

Elizabeth sat, her posture firm, countenance unyielding. Fitzwilliam took the seat next to her on the sofa, her Uncle across from them. She leveled a pointed look at her Uncle. After a moment, when he didn't say anything, she raised one eyebrow. "Well, Uncle? What have you to say?"

Gardiner remained silent as he studied his niece. His gaze shifted to Darcy, sitting protectively beside her. He smiled slightly. How grateful he was that his niece had found a gentleman worthy of her in every respect. One that not only respected her, but loved her unconditionally as well. He was immensely grateful that his mistakes had not prevented Elizabeth from finding a man worthy of her love and esteem. It made his mistakes worth it somehow. Soon, his guilt would be swept away as she took Darcy's name and she left her home for good; removed from the bitterness of her mother caused by his error in judgment. Yes, all would be made right. He took a deep breath, gathering his courage. He knew this day would come, when he would have to confess. His guilt. His duplicity. Soon, he would have no more secrets.

Heart pounding furiously, whether from nervousness or fear, Gardiner said with a calmness he didn't feel, "Williamson spoke to you?" At Elizabeth's brief nod, he took a deep breath. "Would you please tell me what he told you?"

Elizabeth's throat tightened and she looked down at the clenched fist in her lap, holding the evidence of her Uncle's perfidy. Fitzwilliam reached over to take her free hand in his, squeezing it gently in encouragement and comfort. Elizabeth was surprised, but pleased that he would make such a gesture in front of her Uncle.

Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth began. As she spoke, she kept her unwavering gaze fixed on her Uncles, wanting to see his eyes as she related Mr Williamson's tale. Several times her voice faltered and she had to pause and compose herself as she remembered Mr Williamson's pain and anguish. At one point in her narrative, her Uncle's calm demeanor broke and he leaned forward as if a heavy weight was pressing on his shoulders, his expression full of shame, regret and remorse. Finally, after endless minutes, she finished and her posture relaxed slightly as she waited for her Uncle to concur or refute Mr Williamson's account.

Time passed; the silence stretching out interminably, punctuated by the soft ticking sound of the clock on the mantle. Elizabeth held her breath, her heart thundering loudly in her ears as she watched her Uncle process all that she had related. He gave a deep sigh and closed his eyes, breaking her unrelenting gaze.

In a soft voice, he said, "Everything he said is true."

Elizabeth exhaled loudly. Truth be told, she was not surprised by his admission, but it hurt, nonetheless. Some small part of her had been hoping that he would deny Mr Williamson's story; say that it was all a mistake, a horrible misunderstanding. She grasped Fitzwilliam's hand, finding strength from his firm, sure grip.

"How could you do it, Uncle?" she whispered. "Knowing the pain and anguish it would cause?"

Gardiner opened his eyes, his gaze anguished. "It was for the best, Lizzy. Please, believe me."

Elizabeth shook her head vehemently. "No, I don't believe that, Uncle. I won't believe it!" Nothing her Uncle would say could excuse what he had done. Her eyes closed in pain as she thought of the anguish on Mr Williamson's face. No, nothing could erase what he had done.

"Lizzy," Gardiner said, his eyes pleading. "You have heard Williamson's story. Now, will you hear mine?"

"That is why I'm here, Uncle," she said resolutely.

Gardiner stood and began to pace. "Lizzy," he began hesitantly. "To understand Williamson's story, you need to first understand mine. I just ask that you be patient with me while I tell you." He took a deep breath, gathering his courage.

"My father always assumed that I would become a solicitor and take over his business when he died." He smiled, a faraway expression on his face. "But that life was not for me-I wanted something more. When my father learned of my decision to go into business..." His voice suddenly wavered, indicating deep distress. "He was upset, angry." He lowered his head, his eyes filled with regret and pain. "We exchanged harsh words and in my anger, I left."

Elizabeth felt her heart go out to her Uncle; she knew exactly how he had felt; the pain of not living up to a parents expectation was difficult to overcome. She squeezed Fitzwilliam's hand, grateful for his presence.

Gardiner smiled sadly as he took a seat once again across from her. "Our relationship was strained after that. I visited rarely, using my business as an excuse." He frowned. "My father's health declined and he wrote asking for advice. He wanted to hire another solicitor, someone who could take over after he died, and asked if I knew of anyone who would be interested." He leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. "I suggested Mr Phillips. I had met him through some business dealings and I knew him to be a good man and I liked him. I knew my father would as well."

"In my father's next letter he thanked me for suggesting Mr Phillips and he also mentioned that he had hired a young clerk as well." He stopped, meeting Elizabeth's steady gaze. "Mr Williamson." He sighed. "His letter was full of praise for both Phillips and Williamson, but especially the latter. He extolled his many good virtues, that he was determined, hardworking, and intelligent." In a quieter voice, he continued, "I admit I was a little jealous at his effusive praise. I didn't go back to visit after that. Not until my father sent for me."

"The first time I met Williamson was the day before my father died." He paused, rubbing a hand over his face wearily. In a tight voice, he continued, "But his regard for Williamson didn't mean he approved of him as an appropriate suitor for his eldest daughter."

Elizabeth blinked at her Uncle in shock. She shook her head, her brow lowered in bewilderment. "I don't understand. Mr Williamson said no one knew about his engagement to Mama. That it was a secret."

Gardiner shook his head, a wry smile on his face. "Oh, he knew. You think my sister could keep her affection for the clerk hidden from the keen gaze of her father?" His expression softened and he said sympathetically, "Fanny has never been good at hiding her feelings."

Elizabeth looked down, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat, pain filling her heart. Yes, she knew firsthand that her mother didn't know how to hide her feelings. She raised her head, her eyes flashing with indignation. "That still doesn't excuse..."

Gardiner held up a hand. "Please, Lizzy. This is hard enough. Let me finish before you accuse me."

Elizabeth nodded and Fitzwilliam squeezed her hand gently.

"When I arrived in Meryton, my father immediately asked to see me and we talked for quite some time. Among other things, he told me about Williamson and Fanny's understanding. He knew they were secretly engaged. He then related to me why he couldn't condone such a match."

Elizabeth held her breath, leaning forward slightly on the edge of her chair. She had never known her grandfather, but she knew that he had been a good, kind and honorable man. He must have had a good reason to disapprove of their match.

"Father was concerned that Williamson was pursuing Fanny for her dowry of ten thousand pounds."

Elizabeth sat back, her eyes wide. She shook her head in disbelief. "No. No, I don't believe it, Uncle! The man I talked with today didn't care about money! You're wrong!"

Gardiner looked at Elizabeth, sadness in his eyes. "My father had a right to be concerned, Lizzy."

"I don't understand."

Gardiner leaned forward, his countenance solemn. "My father related to me that he had overheard a conversation between Fanny and Williamson. A conversation in which he heard him say that with Fanny's dowry they would live very well. That they didn't have to wait to marry." Gardiner sat back and he lifted his hands, palm up. "What was my father supposed to think, after hearing a comment like that?"

"He should have asked them!" Elizabeth cried. "Instead of assuming he understood the context of their conversation!" She stood, unable to sit any longer. She clenched the ring tighter in her fist. "I don't believe it, Uncle. I can't believe that my grandfather would tell you to separate them! To perpetuate this farce! This duplicity!"

Gardiner stood, facing his irate niece. He held out his hands in a supplicating gesture. "Please, Lizzy. You're right, he didn't." He paused, looking her in the eye and taking a deep breath, said, "I made that decision."

Elizabeth stilled, staring at her Uncle. "Why?" she whispered.

Gardiner gestured for her to sit but he remained standing. He turned away, taking deep, even breaths, feeling the blood rushing in his ears. He said a silent prayer that Elizabeth would understand. That his decision was out of a desire to do what he felt was best for his sister.

Turning back to face his niece, he glanced at Darcy, who had been still and silent the entire time. The man could hide his emotions better than anyone he had ever met; his face revealed nothing. But glancing down, he could see the taut lines of his clenched fist, while his other hand gently held Elizabeth's. He sighed in contentment. Yes, he had made the right decision. How could he regret a union that had produced Elizabeth? If Fanny had not married Bennet, Elizabeth would not be here and Darcy would not be sitting next to her, holding her hand like it was the most precious thing in the world.

Gardiner sat, placing his hands on his knees, bracing himself for what he had to say. "Apart from his concerns about Fanny's relationship with Williamson, he also told me that he had invested some money. In my behalf."

Elizabeth furrowed her brow in confusion. "Forgive my skepticism, Uncle. But I find it hard to believe that my grandfather had money to invest. Indeed, I find it difficult to believe that my mother's dowry was ten thousand pounds, when I always believed it was five thousand."

Gardiner shook his head. "My father was very good at what he did. Despite living in Meryton, he had many clients who lived in London, wealthy clients. He had gained a reputation for being honest, discreet and expeditious. And he was extremely frugal." With a wry smile, he added, "To the endless despair of his wife and daughters. But, my father wanted to leave each of his children something upon his death, to leave my mother well provided for. So he saved every pound he could. I don't know how, but he managed to raise my sisters dowries to ten thousand pounds and to give me ten thousand as well upon his death."

He paused briefly, before continuing. "My father told me that he had invested my inheritance the year previously without my knowledge. He said it was a gesture of goodwill, that he meant no hard feelings with my decision to go into business instead of following him. He wanted to give me more than what I expected. To help me make my start." In a burst of feeling, he cried out, "If only he had told me! I could have safely invested the money and been sure of a sizable return!"

Elizabeth unconsciously leaned forward, gripping Fitzwilliam's hand tighter. "What happened?"

Gardiner looked at her, his gaze solemn. In a quiet voice, he said, "He lost almost all of it. He trusted the wrong man. A man who knew nothing about investing." He shook his head, his countenance dejected. "My inheritance went from ten thousand pounds to barely a thousand."

Elizabeth didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, Uncle."

Gardiner smiled wryly, turning to Darcy. "I suppose it seems like a paltry sum to you, Darcy. But to a young business man just starting out, ten thousand pounds would have helped tremendously."

Darcy nodded. Although, he couldn't understand, he had watched Richard struggle with being a second son, knowing that he would have to make his own way in life. But thanks to the man sitting in front of him, Richard was financially stable and if he ever decided to retire, would live very comfortably.

Gardiner sat, gazing at Elizabeth with fondness. He studied her features, the resemblance to his sister was striking; except for her eyes. She had her fathers eyes in shape and color. From her mother, Elizabeth had inherited her liveliness and spirited nature; her love of laughter. From her father she had inherited his love of learning and inquisitive nature. She was the perfect complement of two imperfect people. How could he regret what he did, when Elizabeth was the result?

After a moment, he continued, rather haltingly. "When I realized what had happened, I was angry." He shook his head sadly. "But I couldn't blame my father. I blamed the man he had trusted and I blamed myself. I asked if he had invested my sisters dowries as well and was relieved to hear that he had not. He then told me of Fanny's secret engagement to Williamson and his concerns. Concerns which I shared."

Gardiner leaned forward slightly, piercing Elizabeth with his gaze, pleading for her understanding. "You have to understand, Lizzy. After my father's death, I was responsible for my mother and sisters. For their welfare. Their happiness."

"So you separated a couple who loved one another? Why? Tell me why you did it, Uncle?" Elizabeth implored.

"Fanny was eighteen, Lizzy. Eighteen. Williamson was barely three and twenty. They were too young to contemplate the realities of life. And knowing that Williamson was relying on Fanny's ten thousand pounds to live?" He shook his head angrily. "It was not good enough! He should be responsible for providing for a wife, not the other way around!"

Elizabeth stared at her Uncle with wide eyes, surprised at his impassioned outburst. "But you admit yourself, Uncle, that you didn't know Mr Williamson. How could you know that they were ignorant of life's realities? Didn't he tell you that he wanted to become a solicitor? He even said you gave him money to do so! Why go through all the subterfuge of accepting his suit if you meant to deceive him?"

"I gave him five hundred pounds," Gardiner responded in a monotone voice. "I felt that he would take the money, leave Meryton and never return."

Elizabeth looked at him in horror and she felt Fitzwilliam tense beside her. "What? Do you honestly think that you could have bribed him to leave my mother? What of the letter he left her? The letter that I believe you never gave her? If you were so sure that Mr Williamson would leave Meryton without any intention of returning, why didn't you give my mother the letter?"

Gardiner sighed deeply and stood, going over to his safe, he removed a bundle of letters tied with a blue ribbon. Wordlessly, he handed the bundle to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth stared at the letters sitting innocuously in her lap. Releasing Fitzwilliam's hand, she quickly untied the ribbon holding the letters. They were yellowed with age and every single one was addressed to her mother. The first only had her mother's name in a firm, strong hand. The rest were addressed to her mother's former residence in Meryton. She could clearly see that they were all unopened.

In a bitter voice, she said, "At least you had the decency not to read Mr Williamson's private letters addressed to my mother. Although, if you had, you would have seen how much he loved her."

Gardiner looked at Elizabeth with sadness and resignation. "Lizzy, your mother was young. Although she was a woman, she was still a child in so many ways. She couldn't contemplate what her life would have been like married to a poor man like Williamson. She was much better off with your father. He could provide for her, give her the home that she deserved. And I daresay, desired."

At his nieces skeptical look, he said, wryly. "Oh yes, Lizzy. Your mother was hardly indifferent to your father. Indeed, before I left Meryton and Williamson arrived, your mother had stated quite emphatically that she would marry him one day."

"She was barely a woman, Uncle! My mother was only sixteen when Mr Williamson arrived in Meryton! So, she must have told you she wished to marry my father when she was fourteen? Fifteen?"

Gardiner shook his head. "Lizzy, I have a letter from your mother _after_ Williamson arrived in Meryton. She spent the entirety of the letter saying how she had danced two dances with Bennet at the Assembly and that she was determined to marry him. She didn't mention Williamson. Not once."

Elizabeth responded, angrily, "But my mother loved him! Why would she agree to marry him if she didn't?"

"Lizzy," Gardiner responded, his tone as if explaining to a child. "Your mother, as you know, can be very fickle. She was even more so as a young woman. I believed her to be infatuated with Williamson. Nothing more."

Elizabeth drew herself up, her eyes blazing. In a tight voice, she said, "Then tell me why my mother is so resentful. She has no love, respect or esteem for my father. And it has been so for as long as I can remember. Explain that, Uncle. If she didn't love Mr Williamson, what else could cause her to become so bitter?"

Gardiner looked at her with sad eyes. He was weary. Spent. Heartsick. He closed his eyes. How could he betray Bennet? Elizabeth thought the world of her father. To learn that Bennet had suggested...It would destroy Elizabeth. He shook his head. _Enough._

Opening his eyes, he met Elizabeth's gaze, blazing with indignation and determination. "I have told you, Lizzy, that I only wish to protect you, keep you from learning things that would be best left unsaid. Unknown."

Elizabeth shook her head angrily. "I'm not a child, Uncle. You promised me answers and you're trying to convince me of something that is not true." She leveled an accusing look at him. "Has anything you've told me been true, Uncle?"

Gardiner was shocked. "Of course. Everything I've said has been true, Lizzy." In a small voice, he added, "Except my knowledge of your mother's love for Williamson."

Elizabeth sucked in a breath. "Enough, Uncle! Tell me. No more lies, no more prevarication. I have a right to know."

Darcy glared at Gardiner, incensed that he had _again_ tried to keep things from Elizabeth. The man was the worst sort of coward. He glanced at Elizabeth. His brave, wonderful, beautiful Elizabeth. He rubbed her back in soothing circles, uncaring that Gardiner was present. He could feel the man boring holes in the side of his head, but he didn't care. Gardiner had gone down greatly in his estimation today.

"Lizzy, I'm imploring you. You will not like what I have to say. Please, believe me when I tell you that it is better for you to remain ignorant. I'm only trying to protect you! Please."

"From what, Uncle? The truth of why you separated my mother and Mr Williamson?" She clutched the letters in her hand and held them up. "What could possibly be worse than keeping Mr Williamson's letters from reaching my mother? For telling him that she had died? For letting my mother believe that the man she loved and agreed to marry had abandoned her without any explanation! Tell me, Uncle! What could possibly be worse than that?"

"That it was your father's idea to separate them!" Gardiner exclaimed.

Darcy felt, rather than heard Elizabeth's sharp intake of breath as his hand was on her back. Her face went white, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. He slid his hand up her back, wrapping it around her shoulders, bringing her close to his side. He turned his head, kissing her temple as he whispered, "I'm here, Elizabeth. Breathe, my love."

Elizabeth turned her body towards Fitzwilliam's, resting her head on his shoulder as she attempted to compose herself. She closed her eyes, breathing in his familiar scent, letting his presence calm her aching heart. No! It couldn't be true! Her mind and heart rebelled at what her Uncle had told her. Her father could not possibly have had a hand in separating her mother and Mr Williamson! Why? How?

When she felt her emotions were under control, she straightened, looking up to meet Fitzwilliam's compassionate gaze. Wordlessly, he reached up, wiping the tears from her face. She was not even aware that she had been crying. She gave him a tremulous smile before turning to face her Uncle. Her eyes hardened as she met his sorrowful gaze.

"Explain what you mean, Uncle." Her tone was cold.

Gardiner felt his heart break at the bleakness in Elizabeth's eyes. He had wanted to prevent her from this, the knowledge that her father had a hand in separating two people who loved each other. And that he had agreed. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for crushing the idealized man Elizabeth had looked up to, even idolized since she was a little girl. _Forgive me, Bennet._

He took a deep breath. "First, I want you to know that your father loved your mother, Lizzy. What he did, he did because of that love." Elizabeth remained silent, her gaze steady, unwavering.

"After I buried my father, Bennet came to see me." He cleared his throat. "He told me that he had gone to my father almost two years previously to ask for Fanny's hand in marriage. My father refused, stating that Fanny, barely sixteen was too young to be a wife. He told Bennet to court his daughter and come back in a few years when she had matured. He agreed and he waited. And then he watched as the woman he had come to think of as his fell in love with another man."

Gardiner paused to gauge Elizabeth's reaction. Her gaze seemed to have softened some and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He noticed that Darcy was gently rubbing her back again. He narrowed his eyes at the man's audacity. To his credit, Darcy's gaze didn't waver from his, nor did he cease his tender ministrations to his niece. Gardiner sighed.

"Desperate to have Fanny, Bennet told me that he knew that my father had lost my inheritance and he offered a solution that would work for my benefit, as well as his and Fanny's." He paused, taking a deep breath. "If I agreed to a marriage contract, he would forfeit Fanny's dowry of ten thousand pounds."

Elizabeth stared at her Uncle, mouth agape. In a strangled voice, she asked, "To what end?"

Gardiner looked at Darcy, unsurprised to see he understood immediately what Bennet had been suggesting. His gaze was disapproving and slightly horrified. He bent his head and with shame in his voice, said, "I would be able to take Fanny's ten thousand pounds to help me in my business ventures."

Elizabeth sucked in breath, bringing her hand to her mouth, trying to keep her emotions under control. In a horrified whisper, she said, "You sold my mother to my father." Gardiners eyes widened, shaking his head in denial. In a burst of feeling, Elizabeth cried out, "You did! How else can you explain it, Uncle? My father offered you money in exchange to marry my mother!"

"And how is it any different than a father offering money to a future husband to marry his daughter!"

Elizabeth stood, her eyes blazing with indignation. "It's not the same, Uncle. What you and my father did was wrong and not the behavior of a gentleman. You did this without my mother's knowledge. You conspired to get rid of Mr Williamson. For money!" she spat.

Gardiner held up his hands. "Please, Lizzy. It's not as bad as all that."

Elizabeth laughed derisively. "No? Please tell me, Uncle. What could you possibly say to make this right?"

Gardiner sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I couldn't agree to just take Fanny's dowry, Lizzy. I told Bennet I would take it as an investment, that in exchange I would provide for Fanny upon her death, and..." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Provide dowries for any children that they had."

Elizabeth sat heavily on the sofa, incredulous. She shook her head. "That still doesn't make it right, Uncle! It doesn't justify what you did to my mother and Mr Williamson!"

"Lizzy," Gardiner said gently. "Can you honestly tell me that this hasn't worked out for the best? If Fanny hadn't married Bennet, you would not be sitting here, beside the man who is soon to be your husband."

"Stop justifying your behavior, Uncle!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "What about the happiness of my mother and Mr Williamson? What about the pain and anguish they have both suffered? My mother for thinking the man she loved abandoned her and Mr Williamson for thinking she had died?"

Gardiner countenance deflated. "You're right, Lizzy. Looking back, it is clear that it was badly done. But please believe me, at the time, I was truly trying to do the right thing for your mother. I knew Bennet loved her and I knew that she had claimed for years that she wished to marry him. I thought this romance with Williamson was a passing infatuation. That as she matured, she would realize that Bennet was the practical choice. Indeed, I would have agreed to the marriage contract even if Bennet had not forfeited her dowry. That's how sure I was that it was the right thing to do!"

"Then why send her to Bath? Why keep her letters from her? Why tell Mr Williamson that she died? If you were so certain it was the right thing to do, why keep it from my mother? Why all the deception?" Elizabeth whispered, her voice agonized.

"I was trying to keep Fanny from making a mistake, Lizzy." Gardiner admitted tiredly. "She was not ready to face the realities of what her life would have been like if she married Williamson. I knew it would be years before he could provide adequately for her, assuming that he followed through and became a solicitor. Even then, it was no guarantee that they would have lived well. I was making the best choice I could for my sis-"

"But it was not your choice to make! It was hers!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

Darcy gently rubbed circles on her back, trying to keep his anger and disgust from showing. He had never been so angry towards another human being in his life. He didn't know who deserved the share of the blame, Bennet for suggesting something so despicable or Gardiner for agreeing to it. Despite Gardiners pleas that he was doing the right thing for his sister, his motives were selfish and he couldn't help but think that greed had a lot to do with it as well. Two lives irrevocably altered because of two men's unscrupulous behavior. He smiled wryly as he thought of the message Williamson had sent to Gardiner that morning. Perhaps the man did know what Gardiner and Bennet had done, or at the very least, suspected.

After several moments, Elizabeth felt more composed, taking deep, even breaths, her heart slowing to its regular rhythm. Her mind rebelled against what her Uncle had told her. The rational part of her mind agreed with her Uncle's assessment. She didn't doubt that her Father had loved her mother at one time, and had been heartbroken when he watched her turn her affections from him to another. He had acted out of desperation, uncaring who he harmed in his pursuit to get what he wanted-her mother. But seeing Mr Williamson's anguish at learning that her mother had married another...She closed her eyes, her heart breaking.

In a dull voice, Elizabeth stated, "You told Mr Williamson my mother died so he would not come back for her and ruin your plans."

"Yes." Gardiner watched his niece carefully. Could he have done things differently? Seeing her distress, he was not sure that telling her about Bennet's role had been wise. How he wished he could spare her from the disillusionment she was experiencing.

"Before he left Meryton, he gave me the address of the boardinghouse where he would be staying." Looking at Darcy, Gardiner added, "The same boardinghouse he is staying in at present."

Darcy narrowed his eyes at Gardiner, his anger at the man mounting. He knew. From the very beginning, he knew where he could be found. Darcy took a deep breath, releasing his anger. Elizabeth needed him right now; he had to stay composed and under control. For her.

Gardiner looked down, unable to hold the accusing gazes of his niece and Darcy. "I...kept an eye on him. Paid the mistress of the boardinghouse to keep me appraised of any pertinent information, to give me any letters addressed to Meryton. It was she who told me of his plans to return to Meryton. To see Fanny."

Elizabeth didn't know if she wanted to hear anymore. She grasped for Fitzwilliam's hand, squeezing it tightly.

"I met him near his boardinghouse and I told him...I..." Gardiners voice trailed off and he lowered his head in shame.

"That my mother died," Elizabeth finished, a hard edge to her voice. "Tell me, was that my Father's idea as well?"

Gardiners head shot up, his eyes wide in shock. "No! No, Lizzy. Your father didn't know. After I signed the marriage contract with Bennet, I made him believe that Williamson had left of his own accord."

He met Elizabeth's reproachful stare. In a softer tone, he said, "Bennet didn't even know that they were engaged, Lizzy. Not until much, much later. Even then, he didn't care. He just wanted Fanny. He thought that she was infatuated with Williamson, as I did. But he was afraid that she would do something rash." With raised brows, he added, "Such as run off and elope. He just wanted Williamson gone before he convinced her to run off with him. He left all the details to me. All he cared about was that your mother married him. The rest was immaterial."

_How magnanimous of him_, Elizabeth thought bitterly. It appeared that everyone received what they wanted except for her mother and Mr Williamson. Suddenly a thought shot through her mind and she gasped. "What year did Mr Williamson leave Meryton?"

Gardiner looked at his niece in puzzlement. "What year?" He rubbed his chin. "Well, my father died in late spring of eighty-seven, Williamson left a few weeks later. Why?"

"Three years," Elizabeth whispered. "My mother waited three years for Mr Williamson to return for her before marrying my father."

Gardiner nodded, his expression full of remorse. "Yes, she did. When she returned from Bath and discovered that he was gone and that she was to marry Bennet, well...I admit that it surprised me, her tenacity. She was furious with me and with your father. She refused to see him or talk to him for months. She kept insisting that Williamson would not abandon her, that he would return. Whenever I brought up marrying Bennet, she would leave the room. I thought that she would come around in time, the marriage would take place and all would be well. But she would not give in. For three years she refused. That more than anything convinced me that she had truly loved him."

"And you still hold to the belief that you were doing what was best for my mother?" Elizabeth looked at her Uncle, incredulous. "Why didn't you tell her? Give her the letters?"

"What good would it have done, Lizzy? Williamson was gone-he had moved to Scotland to live with his last remaining relative. The marriage contract was signed. Legally, she was bound to your father! What could I have done?"

Elizabeth stared at her Uncle, furious. "You mean my mother's dowry had already been transferred to you!"

"Lizzy," Gardiner said in an appeasing tone. "That is not true! I told you it was never about the money!"

"You can try to convince yourself of that, Uncle. But I don't believe it. At any time during those three years you could have contacted Mr Williamson and told him you lied. Yes, it would have been a breach of contract, but it was the right thing to do! Although, it was an informal engagement, they were still promised to one another! You have convinced yourself these past twenty-five years that you made the right decision. But I don't believe you would have hidden it from my mother if that was true. You would not feel such guilt, otherwise."

Gardiners countenance deflated. "I don't know what else to say, Lizzy. Do I regret my actions? Yes, I do. But it is done. I can't change the past, but I can predict the future. You will marry the man sitting next to you and you will have a happy and blessed life." With a pointed look, he added, "All because your mother married your father and not Williamson."

Elizabeth stared at her Uncle for a moment before carefully setting the ring she had clutched like a talisman during their conversation in front on him on the table. "This ring represents one man's anguish at losing the woman he loved. No one's happiness, least of all mine can ever erase or justify that, Uncle."

Gardiner stared at the ring. As comprehension dawned, his eyes widened in horror and he respectfully picked it up. He held it in his palm, his eyes filled with anguish as he beheld the mourning ring made in his sisters memory. He didn't know that Fanny had given him a lock of her hair. He closed his eyes and lowered his head, as the full weight of his deception became clear.

In a broken voice, he whispered, "Please forgive me, Lizzy."

"I'm not the one who requires your forgiveness, Uncle," she replied in a soft voice. She felt an unexpected wave of compassion for the man sitting before her. She had always looked up to her Uncle like a second father, a man she could rely on. Trust. Respect. She knew that trust and respect had been damaged this day, but she had hope that it could be repaired, with time.

Elizabeth stood. Her Uncle needed time alone and she needed the comfort only Fitzwilliam could provide. As she walked to the door, Fitzwilliam close behind her, she turned and said, "I would seek Mr Williamson's forgiveness soon, Uncle." She waited for her Uncle to meet her gaze before continuing, "He's dying."

Elizabeth left the study as her Uncle began to sob softly. Closing the door firmly behind her, she stood unmoving, trying to process all she had heard that day. She had never felt so emotionally spent; her emotions raw, her heart shattered. She needed time to work through her Uncle and Father's deception. But not now. At this very moment, she just wanted to forget this morning had ever happened and find solace in Fitzwilliam's embrace. She grasped his hand like a lifeline, the only thing holding her to reality, from shattering completely.

Darcy silently watched Elizabeth, his heart aching for the pain she was experiencing. She had been betrayed not once, but twice this day. He couldn't imagine the turmoil she was feeling but he wanted nothing more than to take it away. Although he hated the anguish she was feeling, he was glad that she knew. Now, she could move past it and heal. And she would be stronger for it. And he would be there for her. Right now, he wished for nothing more than to pull her into his arms and tell her that everything would be well. Looking up, he saw the same obliging alcove from their brief interlude that morning. Smiling, he gently pulled her towards it.

After pulling the curtains around them for privacy, he wordlessly gathered her into his arms, holding her close to his heart. Tenderly kissing her temple, he asked, "What do you need, Elizabeth? What can I do?"

Elizabeth lay her head on Fitzwilliam's chest, wrapping her arms around him tightly. The steady beat of his heart soothed her troubled mind and aching heart. "Just stay with me, Fitzwilliam. Hold me close," she whispered.

So Darcy did. For a long, long time.

A/N: .Brutal *collapses against the chair in emotional exhaustion* You're probably thinking, but, but...what about their dowries? How much is it? (Am I right?) Well, it just didn't seem appropriate to mention the amount of their dowries in this chapter-Lizzy could care less about the money and same goes for Darcy. But it will be mentioned later. Any guesses to how much it is? Remember, he is providing dowries for FIVE nieces plus Mrs B. So, do you believe Gardiner, that he was truly trying to protect Lizzy from the truth or just hiding his guilt? Do you think it was due to his greed? Or a desire to do what was best for Fanny?

Please review and tell me your thoughts.

Much love,

MAH

A/N Addendum (8/12/15) So a lot of you were expecting E to find out why Mrs B dislikes her so much in this chapter. I apologize for the misunderstanding (it wouldn't be P&amp;P without a little of that now would it?:) I stated in A/N on chapter 20 and 28 that E would find that out AFTER she returns to Longbourn (I double checked that I had told you that and not just thought that I did). That little secret needs to be revealed by Mrs B and no one else. Yes, Gardiner feels guilty because he feels indirectly responsible for his sisters disdain towards E but it is Mrs Bs issue and no one else's. Although Mr B is not without blame as well. So again, I am sorry if you were hoping/expecting for that bit to be revealed. There will be some speculating on that however between E and J and I've decided to reveal the secret behind Mrs B naming Elizabeth since a lot of you have guessed it anyway :-)

Keep reading and reviewing!


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: For reaching over 2,000 reviews, I've decided to post this today instead of waiting until next week. My profound and humble thanks to all you loyal supporters, and especially for all your lovely reviews! You inspire me to give my best and encourage me when I stare at a blank computer screen. Your support and reviews really do help - so thank you from the bottom of my heart!

Chapter 31

When Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam finally returned to the Drawing room some time after leaving her Uncles study, she found her Aunt and Jane conversing on innocuous topics unassociated with her ordeal that day. One glance at Jane's face revealed that their Aunt had not shared the history between Mr Williamson and their mother with her, which surprised Elizabeth. She knew her Aunt was aware of everything, although she had not known the entirety of her husbands involvement in the affair until the night her Uncle had first told her about Mr Williamson.

Jane took one look at her sisters overwrought expression and rose gracefully from her place beside their Aunt. Giving Elizabeth a warm embrace she whispered her relief that she was well and unharmed. Instead of questioning her about her meeting with Mr Williamson and their Uncle as she had expected, Jane simply gave her an affectionate smile and returned to her place on the sofa to resume her sewing.

_Dear Jane._ Elizabeth looked fondly at her sister, grateful for her forbearance. She felt guilty that it had not even occurred to her to invite Jane to hear their Uncles confession. Perhaps she didn't wish to know? She knew that it would grieve her sisters tender sensibilities, but she would not keep it from her unless she wished not to be told.

Later that night, when everything was quiet and still, Elizabeth sought out her sister, eager for her opinion and guidance. They refrained from speaking until they were both settled comfortably for the night. Lying on her side, facing Jane, she could just make out the faint outline of her sister on her back, her hands resting on her stomach. "Jane," she began hesitantly. "Tell me what you are thinking."

Jane was silent for so long that Elizabeth became worried. Finally, she sighed deeply and responded, her voice unsteady. "I was so worried for you, Lizzy. When I heard that you were with Mr Williamson, alone, I was so frightened. I don't think I took a decent breath until I saw you were safe."

Elizabeth's eyes burned with unshed tears. "Oh, Jane!" She reached over grasping one of Jane's hands. "I'm sorry I caused you such distress. But Mr Williamson never meant me any harm."

"But I didn't know that! You cannot know what it was like Lizzy when it became known what had happened. It was all confusion and panic. Even Colonel Fitzwilliam was distraught and I didn't think anything could discompose him. I felt for certain that something horrible had happened to you and I..." Jane's voice trailed off as she began crying quietly.

Elizabeth sat up, quickly lighting a candle by her bedside. "Jane, come here." Elizabeth reached for her sister, pulling her into her embrace as she whispered, "I'm well, Jane. I was never in any danger." She felt her sister nod against her shoulder.

After a few moments, Jane sat up, wiping the tears from her face. She gave Elizabeth a tremulous smile. "Forgive me, Lizzy. I don't know what came over me. I'm being nonsensical."

"You are _not._" Elizabeth declared emphatically. "Your feelings are justified and I'm truly sorry that my thoughtless actions today led to your distress."

Jane shook her head. "No, Lizzy. I don't blame you, not in the least."

"You should." Elizabeth raised a brow, a teasing smile on her face. "Indeed, I think you should tell me everything I did today that was ill conceived and ill judged."

Jane only laughed but she sobered immediately. "Was it very difficult? Your meeting with Mr Williamson and with Uncle?"

Elizabeth nodded, reaching out to grasp her sisters hand, needing her sisters gentle touch to ease the ache in her heart. Her kind, unselfish, wonderful sister. How grateful she was to have her steady, calm influence in her life. She truly was the best person she had ever known. "Do you wish to know, Jane?"

She pondered Elizabeth's question, an indecisive expression on her lovely face. "Are you glad you know, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth responded without hesitation. "Yes."

Jane nodded her head. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders, and with determination said, "Then I wish to know as well."

Elizabeth saw her sisters resolve and was relieved. She needed her sisters perspective and guidance now more than ever. She reached under her pillow for her handkerchief, handing it to her sister. "Then you will need this."

Jane swallowed, nodding her head. "If it is too painful for you to tell me, Lizzy, I can ask our Aunt or Uncle. I'll understand."

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, Jane. That won't be necessary."

Elizabeth took a deep breath and for the second time that day, related her meeting with Mr Williamson, glossing over the part when he had grabbed her. Jane's reaction to Mr Williamson's tale was predictable; her sisters distress evident almost immediately.

After Elizabeth related her meeting with Mr Williamson, she waited patiently for Jane to speak. Her sister twisted her sodden handkerchief, her lovely face streaked with tears.

"Poor Mr Williamson! To think he mourned Mama for twenty-five years, thinking that she was dead all this time!" She shook her head, her beautiful blue eyes filled with sorrow. "And to learn that he is dying? That he returned to England so he could be buried under the same soil as Mama? Oh, Lizzy! I don't think I've ever heard a more tragic tale."

"A tale that was caused because of a lie, Jane. Don't forget that," Elizabeth said darkly.

Jane looked down, picking at a stray thread on her handkerchief. "So it's true then? Uncle really..." Jane met her sisters gaze, her expression pleading to be told that is was all some misunderstanding. Elizabeth understood her sisters disbelief. Hadn't she wanted to believe it was all a mistake?

"Jane," Elizabeth began, grasping her sisters hand. "What I have to relate next will be difficult to hear, and I will understand if you don't wish to hear it." Elizabeth waited with bated breath for her sisters response. She desperately needed Jane's perspective on her Uncle and Father's actions.

"Yes, I wish to know, Lizzy. You should not have to carry this burden alone."

Elizabeth searched her sisters face but saw nothing but determination and resolve in her gaze. She sighed. "Very well." With a soft smile, she handed her sister another handkerchief before relating all she had learned from their Uncle. When she came to the part of revealing their Father's role in the separation, her voice faltered. Speaking of it was more difficult than Elizabeth anticipated. Her eyes burned and her throat tightened with unshed tears. Jane reached out and grasped her hand, squeezing it tightly, offering wordless comfort.

Jane was silent after Elizabeth finished. She could not meet her sister's gaze, but looked unseeing in front of her. She prayed that Jane would say something, anything to remove the ache from her heart.

Jane's gentle voice pulled Elizabeth's gaze back to her sister. "Lizzy, I know learning Papa's role in all this must have wounded you deeply. But his motive for doing so was out of love, albeit a selfish love. I don't believe it was done maliciously."

Elizabeth met her sisters sympathetic gaze. Yes, she had thought the exact same thing and had started rationalizing his behavior based on that conclusion. Then, Elizabeth put herself in her mother's place. How would she feel if someone who claimed to love her tried to separate her from Fitzwilliam? Merely contemplating such a horrible event caused her heart to wrench in the acutest agony. She closed her eyes, not wanting Jane to witness her pain. Her heart cried out in agony and for the first time, she understood how her mother could have become so bitter, bound to a man she didn't love. Her heart started thudding painfully in her chest and she forced herself to take deep breaths. She gave herself a mental shake, her mind rebelling at such an abhorrent thought. It was not the same! Fitzwilliam was not a penniless nobody. For the first time, she appreciated her fiancés standing in society; his wealth and consequence would ensure that she would not suffer her mother's fate.

"Lizzy?" Jane's troubled voice brought Elizabeth back from her agonizing thoughts.

Elizabeth took a shuddering breath and opened her eyes. Shaking her head to rid her mind of the last vestiges of the worst living nightmare she could contemplate, and said in a tremulous voice, "I am well, Jane."

"What were you thinking just now that distressed you so, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth huffed a laugh to keep from breaking down completely. "It was nothing, Jane." Seeing her sister open her mouth in protest, she raised her hand. "Please Jane," she said quietly. "Don't ask." She couldn't give voice to what she had thought. It would remain locked away in the deepest recesses of her mind, never to be thought of again.

"What are your thoughts on this whole sordid tale, Jane? I desperately need your perspective, for I can't see past the errors of Uncle and Papa's actions."

"Well, my first reaction upon hearing what Uncle and Papa did was incredulity. How could two men who I have always seen as honorable do such a thing? It defies disbelief! But, if you take away the lies and the deception, you are left with a brother who was concerned for his sister and a man who was in love." Seeing her sisters angry expression, she pressed her sisters hand. In a firm voice, she said, "It doesn't excuse what they did, but I believe their motives were pure."

"But what about Mama's choice, Jane? Despite her prior intentions to marry Papa, she loved Mr Williamson! Doesn't that count for something? Would she have agreed to marry a man she did not love?"

Jane was thoughtful as she contemplated her sisters question. "But did they truly love one another, Lizzy? Or was it simply an infatuation as Uncle and Papa believed?"

Elizabeth stared at her sister, her mouth agape. "Jane," she said carefully. "That is the one thing that I am sure of. If you had seen Mr Williamson's face when he realized that not only Mama was alive, but had married...you would not doubt his love for her."

"Yes, but Lizzy," Jane said, her expression serious. "That doesn't follow that their love would have endured the trials of life. It is easy to idealize a love that you have lost. You remember only the fond memories and everything you cherished about that person, while you forget the arguments, the vexations, their faults, and negative tendencies."

Jane held her sisters gaze, forcing her to look past the deception perpetuated by their Uncle and Father to the truth that was so clearly evident. "Does Uncle love our Mother, Lizzy?"

"Yes, I believe he does."

"And does an affectionate brother want what is best for the sister he loves?"

Elizabeth nodded and sighed. "Of course. I think our Uncle believed he was doing what was best for his sister, but was it?"

Jane looked at Elizabeth, a nervous expression on her face. "Lizzy, I believe not only was it the _best_ decision, but it was the _only_ decision our Uncle could make."

Elizabeth reared back, her eyes wide with astonishment. "Jane! You don't really believe that, do you?"

"I do, Lizzy. And I will tell you why." Jane took a deep breath. "I don't doubt that Mama loved Mr Williamson. But, from what I know of our mother, she would not have been happy living in relative poverty while Mr Williamson pursued a living to support them. Even if they had her dowry of £10,000. And if they had a family...their love would have turned to disillusionment and eventually led to what we see in our parents marriage: apathy and resentment. Only, I believe it would have occurred even sooner."

Elizabeth stared at her sister. She couldn't deny the logic of what her sister said, but happiness could not be measured by money and material possessions! She told her sister as much and watched as her sister shook her head, an amused expression on her face.

"Lizzy, _you_ would not measure your happiness by material possessions, but you are not our mother. She _does_ measure happiness by such things. Don't you see? The fault lies not with Mama's circumstances, but in what she feels she deserves! Uncle was right, in that Mama was not ready to face the realities of life with Mr Williamson. Uncle knew our mother, Lizzy. He knew she needed to be secure financially or she would not be content."

"But even with financial security she is not content Jane! So why can't her unhappiness be the result of not being able to marry the man she loved?"

"Because unfortunately, Mama is one of those individuals who will never be content with what she has," Jane answered softly. "She could live in a castle with the man she loved and she would still be unhappy and discontent. The fault lies with _her_, Lizzy. She just blames her unhappiness on her circumstances, her husband, her... "

"Daughter," Elizabeth finished her sisters statement, averting her eyes from Jane's compassionate gaze. She pondered her sisters insightful observation of their mother, knowing in her heart that it was true. _Nothing_ pleased her mother. Even with Jane and Lydia, her acknowledged favorites, she found some reason to lament that Jane was so beautiful and Lydia so spirited.

This was what she needed from Jane, a clear perspective from someone who was not emotionally compromised. She had been too emotionally invested to see things clearly. She was so desperate to understand her mother; her bitterness, her unhappiness and general discontentment with life that she had unknowingly allowed all the negative emotions she felt towards her mother color her perspective.

Instead of feeling sympathetic and saddened by Mr Williamson and her Mother's plight like Jane did, she had felt her Mother's injustice of what was done to her, her anger and betrayal. But Elizabeth was not the one who had been betrayed. She had a right to feel sorrow for what happened, but not indignation. Who was she to judge her Uncle and Father? They did the best they could with the information they had. And could she really blame her Uncle for agreeing to a marriage contract with her Father? What brother would not choose a landed gentleman over a penniless clerk for his sister? The manner in which they separated the young lovers was deplorable, but she had to concede that their motives were based on good intentions.

"She was not always thus, was she Jane?" Elizabeth asked, feeling her heart soften towards her mother slightly.

"I'm not sure, Lizzy." Jane shrugged, her expression sorrowful. "Perhaps the source of her unhappiness lies with not being in control of her own fate, of bowing to the wishes of others instead of being allowed to make her own decisions."

Elizabeth looked at her sister gravely. "Jane, you know that I have wished to know why Mama is the way she is so I can move past the hurt she has caused," Elizabeth looked down, her voice quiet. "So I can try to forgive her. But I still need to know _why_ she treats me so! I am no closer to understanding that than I was before!"

Jane looked at her sister for a long time. "Perhaps...perhaps she envies you, Lizzy. You still have your youth and beauty-your entire life stretching out before you. Her life is fixed, with a husband and children; her options are nonexistent. _You_ still have a choice, Lizzy. She does not. Perhaps, in her own way she is trying to protect you from being hurt like she was."

"That makes no sense, Jane! To make me feel that I am worthless so I won't become hurt? Where is the logic in that? Besides, all her daughters still have their lives ahead of them. That does not set me apart."

"Well, I've always thought that what Mama thinks and does makes no sense, especially where you are concerned."

"Perhaps, I remind her of what she's lost?" Elizabeth mused.

Jane lowered her brows, her expression puzzled. "How so? Although you do look extraordinarily like our Mother, your temperaments are entirely different."

Elizabeth looked at her sister, a small smile gracing her weary face. "Perhaps now they are, but it was not always so, Jane. When I was young, Papa would tell me how much I reminded him of Mama. That I was just as quick to laugh, as lively and spirited as she was." She shook her head, a sad smile on her face, "Perhaps, Mama misses those characteristics in herself."

Jane huffed. "Well, it's her own fault that she is no longer that same person. I find that I have no sympathy for her. Nothing could justify her behavior towards you, Lizzy. _Nothing._"

Elizabeth agreed with her sister. Although, nothing excused a mother's behavior to treat her own daughter with such contempt, she still needed to understand _why_. Until she did, she feared she would never move past the hurt she had caused, never fully heal. And that was unacceptable. She didn't want the emotional pain caused by her Mother to interfere in her life with Fitzwilliam. She wanted to give him a heart that was whole and unmarred by emotional pain. He deserved nothing less.

Deciding to change the subject, she asked Jane her thoughts about the unexpected knowledge that they did, indeed, have a dowry.

"Truthfully, Lizzy? I'm grateful that it is not known that we have a dowry. You know my worst fear is to be pursued simply for my beauty. Imagine if it was known that I had a fortune as well?" Jane shook her head, her expression distressed. "No, I'm very grateful to my Uncle for keeping it a secret."

Elizabeth nodded. She didn't care about the money, it was immaterial and she was grateful that Fitzwilliam didn't care either. That was one of the things they had discussed after the meeting with her Uncle.

"Do you think Uncle has informed Mama?" Jane asked.

"No." Elizabeth knew with absolute certainty that her Mother didn't know. If she did, she would not have been so concerned with their fates when Father died. And she could not have kept something like that a secret from her sister and neighbors. She was always lamenting to anyone who would listen her daughters lack of a dowry.

"I suppose you are right." Jane yawned, laying back on the bed. "Did you talk about anything else with Uncle? You were with him for nearly three hours."

Elizabeth blushed, suddenly finding the pattern on the counterpane very interesting. She cleared her throat. "Well, I was not with Uncle that entire time, Jane."

Jane looked at Elizabeth, her brow lowered in puzzlement. "What do you mean? Where were..." She sat up quickly, her eyes wide, her mouth forming a perfect O. "Lizzy!" she gasped. "You mean to tell me that you were _alone_ with Mr Darcy for three hours?"

"Of course not!" She exclaimed. In an undertone, she added, "It was only a little more than two hours that we were...ah...alone." Elizabeth raised her eyes to meet Jane's wide-eyed gaze.

Jane shook her head, her face dazed. "I...have nothing to say to that, Lizzy."

"It's not what you think, Jane. I was understandably distressed after my conversation with Uncle and he was simply offering comfort. That is all." Elizabeth didn't want her sister to think that anything untoward had occurred. Fitzwilliam had simply held her for a long time; he had been a perfect gentleman. They had only shared a kiss. Or three. Elizabeth felt her face grow hot.

The blush on her face must have given her away for Jane gave her disapproving look. "Lizzy!"

Elizabeth brought her legs to her chest, hugging her knees. "Jane, it was only a kiss. And you cannot tell me that if you found yourself alone with your betrothed you would not take advantage of the opportunity to kiss him as well. Especially, if it was a certain handsome Colonel?" She grinned as her sister blushed a becoming crimson. Deciding to take pity on her sister, she refrained from teasing her any further and instead said goodnight. She leaned over to blow out the candle before settling down to sleep, her mind busy sifting through all she had learned that day. Jane's perspective and insights had given her much to think on.

FEFEFEFEFEFEFEFEFE

Due to the near incessant rain the last three days, Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam had been confined indoors. For two young people in love, this was not a particular hardship, except the distinct lack of privacy. And time alone. Elizabeth had not realized that up until now, she and Fitzwilliam had spent quite a bit of time together, without a chaperone. And ever since Elizabeth's confession the Saturday before of being with Fitzwilliam alone for two hours, Jane had begun to take her duty as chaperone very seriously, never leaving them alone together. She would place herself far enough away to not overhear their conversations, but close enough that she could see them. She was convinced that her presence was all that stood between her sister, her betrothed and complete ruination.

The last few days had been trying for more than one reason, the greatest being her Uncle's absence. Since Saturday, he had sequestered himself in his study, not even emerging for meals. When questioned by her two concerned nieces, her Aunt had responded that he needed time to come to terms with his actions and to not worry. Nevertheless, Elizabeth did worry. She wanted to reassure him that she was angry no longer.

The last three days, she had time to think and talk with her sister and Fitzwilliam, allowing her to see things more clearly. Her anger had been replaced with sorrow and compassion. Although, she could not excuse her Uncle the lies told to Mr Williamson or deceiving her mother into thinking he had abandoned her, she now agreed with Jane; that their motives were born of good intentions. Surprisingly, Jane had been more valuable in helping Elizabeth achieve this clarity than Fitzwilliam. She thought his unbiased opinion would be more useful. He was not unforgiving, but he had difficulty rationalizing her Uncle and Father's behavior because their actions had caused her pain.

Although, her Uncle's company had been missed, his presence had been replaced by an unexpected source. Mr Bingley. He had called on Saturday, leaving his card as the occupants had not been receiving callers due to Elizabeth's tumultuous day. He had called again on Monday, and after congratulating Elizabeth on her engagement to his good friend, had turned his attentions to Jane, much to that young ladies surprise and Elizabeth's chagrin. In true Jane-like fashion, she had accepted his attentions with equanimity; her composure calm, her expression serene. Elizabeth had watched, concerned that Jane was unknowingly giving Mr Bingley encouragement. He seemed however, quite unaware of the turmoil he was causing one Bennet sister, his focus was so fixed on the other.

It was readily apparent that he was interested in her sister. She didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed that the Colonel was not also present. If he had been, it would have been clear to Mr Bingley where Jane's true affection lay. She was relieved that he was not present as she didn't wish for Jane to be uncomfortable with two men vying for her affections. Elizabeth knew, firsthand what that was like and she didn't wish her sister to experience it. Fitzwilliam had been no help at all when she had tried to ask what Mr Bingley was about. His countenance had been unusually reserved, his expression guarded.

Another unexpected, but not unwelcome consequence of staying indoors was that Fitzwilliam had taken it upon himself to demonstrate his affection in slightly improper ways as often as possible, despite her sisters constant presence and ever watchful gaze. They had made it into something of a game. If he could elicit some sort of response from her, then he won a point. If she were able to remain composed, then she won a point. She had agreed, confident that he would not be so bold in his physical gestures of affection, especially with her sister present. She realized very quickly however, that she had severely underestimated the craftiness and creativity of the man she would soon call husband.

Yesterday morning, as she played the pianoforte, he had sat beside her to turn the pages as usual, using their close proximity to place his hand lightly on her leg, just above her knee. It had taken all of Elizabeth's self control to continue playing and not react to his light touch. When he made no further move, she had relaxed slightly, confident that she could maintain her equanimity and finish the piece without drawing Jane's attention. Until he suddenly moved his hand up the outside of her leg causing her to squeak in surprise while playing a discordant note, effectively drawing Jane's notice. He had been unbearably smug after that, whispering in her ear that he was winning.

Currently, Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam were sitting a respectable distance apart on the sofa, each making a valiant attempt to read, although neither of them were having much success in their individual literary pursuits. Elizabeth was unable to concentrate on Shakespeare when Fitzwilliam kept playing with the material of her gown near her knee, his long fingers subtly caressing her leg. Each time Jane looked up from her sewing to see them sitting innocently side by side, he would remove his hand to turn a page then resume his attentions to her... ah, gown after her sister resumed her sewing. This had gone on for so long that Fitzwilliam had to start over from the beginning of his book, whereas Elizabeth had not managed to turn a single page.

With a sigh, Elizabeth snapped her book shut, setting it beside her. Fitzwilliam gazed at her from the corner of eye, his brows raised in amusement.

"Is your book not to your liking, Elizabeth?" He asked innocently, his lips twitching in a vain attempt to not smile.

Elizabeth smiled mischievously and arching a brow, responded in an understated tone, "On the contrary, Fitzwilliam." She turned her head to look at him, giving him a heated look, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "I enjoyed it immensely."

Fitzwilliam froze. He stared at her, his gaze intense. In a low voice, he asked, "Changing the rules, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth smiled, shrugging her shoulders. "Perhaps."

"Impudent minx."

"Incorrigible cad."

Fitzwilliam merely smiled, reaching over to grasp her hand, pulling her to her feet. "Take a turn about the room with me?"

Elizabeth barely refrained from rolling her eyes. She had lost count the number of times they had taken a turn about the room the past three days. Each time had not gone so well for her. His 'attentions' had managed to elicit a response nearly every time, and all within view of her sister. He had then effectively and successfully explained to her sister that Elizabeth's gasps were the result of him accidently stepping on her foot. The man had no shame, apparently.

Fitzwilliam brought her hand to his lips for a kiss, giving her a look of challenge as he placed it around the crook of his elbow. They began a leisurely stroll around the room and he began to talk of Georgiana and the progress she was making in her studies. Elizabeth nodded, her mind thinking furiously what she could possibly do to discompose her imperturbable fiancé.

Just as she thought of an excellent idea, he suddenly dropped her arm, reaching behind her to lay his hand on her back, gently guiding her as they walked around the room. She braced herself, knowing what was coming next. She was wrong. Instead of his hand moving down towards the small of her back as she had expected, he moved his hand upwards. She froze as his fingers reached the bare skin above her dress, his fingers lightly caressing her neck and upper back. She gasped out loud, her back rigid.

Without missing a step, Fitzwilliam said, "Yes, I agree. I also find it amazing that my sister wishes to learn German in addition to French."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. This would not do! Gathering her courage, she took a deep breath as she placed her hand on his back, smiling in triumph when he sucked in a breath, his hand freezing on the back of her neck. Smiling, she moved her hand around towards the front, and after some careful maneuvering managed to slip her hand under his jacket in the front before sliding her hand around his back, her hand underneath his jacket but above his waistcoat.

Fitzwilliam halted their progress, his breathing unsteady. Elizabeth smiled, sliding her hand up his back with some difficulty, despite the smallness of her hands. She looked up at Fitzwilliam, smiling innocently, unaware of what she had unleashed. Seeing his darkened eyes, his intense expression, her smile fell and she felt her face grow hot. She closed her eyes, absolutely mortified. What must he think of her? She had gone too far. She looked away, quickly sliding her hand down his back to remove her offensive appendage.

Before she could remove her hand, however, he whispered one word, his voice rough with emotion. "Don't."

Her hand froze, her heart thundering loudly in her ears. She glanced up at him again, her expression uncertain. What did he mean? 'Don't' move your hand? Or 'don't' do that? Her gaze locked with his, the expression in his eyes causing her stomach to tighten, the sensation new but not unpleasant. Every part of her felt alive as she gazed into his eyes. Never had she seen his eyes so dark, so intense. Wordlessly, they stared at one another, before he lowered his gaze to her lips.

Elizabeth subtly glanced at her sister, convinced that she was watching them with a horrified expression on her face. Instead, she found her sister concentrating on her sewing, her lovely profile calm and unaffected. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

She felt Fitzwilliam slowly guide her to the writing desk in the far corner of the room, the farthest point from her sister. She was aware of his rigid stance, his unsteady breathing. She tried to subtly remove her hand, but stopped when Fitzwilliam shot her a heated look.

In a voice just loud enough that it would carry to her sister, Fitzwilliam said, "I need to write a business letter, Miss Elizabeth. It won't take long." He gave her a pointed look, before directing his gaze to her sister.

"O-of c-course, Mr D-Darcy." Elizabeth knew he was planning something, judging by the unspoken promise in his eyes and her heart began beating erratically in her chest, part in fear and part in anticipation, her breathing uneven.

He slowly backed her up against the wall, between the curtains and the writing desk, his dark gaze boring into hers. Her back hit the wall with a soft thud. She was acutely aware that her hand was still pressed against his lower back underneath his coat. He carefully placed his hands on either side of her body, leaning forward until his face was inches from hers. Unconsciously, she clutched the fabric of his waistcoat in her fist, drawing him closer.

Fitzwilliam's whispered, "You must be very quiet, my love," was her only warning before he captured her lips in a searing kiss that stole her breath and left her weak in the knees. Feeling her legs give way, she brought her other hand up to his back, clinging to him with all her strength as he unleashed what she had seen in his eyes. He kept his hands firmly on the wall beside her, his fingers digging into the wallpaper. Much too soon, he tore his lips from hers, his ragged breathing matching hers. Slowly he stood, his gaze never leaving hers as he brought his hands up to lightly cup her face. He lowered his head, gently caressing her lips with his, soothing the bruised and swollen flesh. He leaned his forehead against hers, his hands gently massaging her shoulders.

"I believe this means that I won," Elizabeth whispered breathlessly, a contented smile on her face, sure in the knowledge that she was loved and adored by the man she loved with her whole heart.

Fitzwilliam leaned back to look at her, a slow, satisfied smile forming on his handsome face. He laughed softly, his eyes alight with happiness and peace. "Yes, I believe it does."

Elizabeth sighed in pure contentment. Looking down, she reached out, lightly fingering the buttons on his jacket. "Fitzwilliam, I believe it would be prudent if I wrote my father again, to ask him to grant you an audience sooner rather than later."

Fitzwilliam stared at her for a moment in silence, his eyes searching hers to determine her sincerity. Seeing the truth of her words, he straightened, his expression eager. "Truly?"

Not waiting for verbal confirmation, he pulled out the chair of the writing desk, gently pushing her into it. Pulling another chair to place beside hers, he sat down, looking at her expectantly, his expression impatient.

"Eager are we?"

Fitzwilliam gave her a fervent look. "Do you require another demonstration of my...eagerness to not have to wait to secure your hand, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth blushed and shook her head. With a trembling hand, she reached for a sheet of paper and pen, briefly checking the nub for sharpness before silently composing the letter in her head. Fitzwilliam began bouncing his leg, effectively distracting her. She shot him a pointed look, before directing her gaze to his rather well shaped thigh. She blushed red, turning her face back to the paper before her. Taking a deep breath, she began to write her father, asking him to grant Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy an audience within the week. She deliberated whether or not to inform her father of Fitzwilliam's arrival, or to await his response. She decided on the later. After the letter was finished, she quickly re-read it, before handing it to Fitzwilliam.

She watched Fitzwilliam peruse the letter, his brows lowered in thought. "Is your father a timely correspondent, Elizabeth? Or is he like my friend, Bingley and considers a response to a letter within a fortnight to be sufficient?"

Elizabeth sighed. "The latter, usually. However, with something this important he will exert himself to respond in a more timely manner, I am sure."

Fitzwilliam raised his brows, his expression dubious. "Elizabeth, perhaps you should simply inform him that I will arrive on Thursday before noon."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Thursday? But that's the day after tomorrow, Fitzwilliam! My father won't even receive the letter until Thursday!"

"Not if it's sent by express."

Elizabeth suppressed a laugh at the keenness of her betrothed. "Fitzwilliam," she explained. "An express sent from London would cause my family no small amount of anxiety. For us, an express represents calamity, certain doom..."

Fitzwilliam laughed, running his hand through his hair. "Very well," he reluctantly conceded. "Tell him to expect me on _Friday_."

Elizabeth shook her head in amusement and began to re-write the letter to her Father, pushing down the sense of foreboding she felt at such an impulsive decision.

A/N: So, a lot of you believed that _all_ Mrs B secrets were going to be revealed last chapter, and for that I apologize profusely. I added an addendum to the last chapter, explaining that the reason for Mrs Bs disdain of Elizabeth will be revealed _after_ Elizabeth returns to Longbourn. And it won't be the minute she arrives home, either. So just a fair warning. So when will they be returning to Longbourn, you ask? I don't have an exact answer but I will say that it will be between 5-7 more chapters.

So, I figured a little lighthearted banter and lovey-doveyness would not go amiss after the last two highly intense/emotionally charged chapters. You're welcome :-) What do you think of Elizabeth's decision to just have D go to Longbourn instead of waiting for her and Jane to accompany him?

Please review to feed my muse (you have no idea how much it helps!)

Much love,

MAH


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 32

Darcy awoke with a start, his eyes opening to total darkness, leaving him disoriented and anxious. Lying on his back, the oppressive silence was punctuated with the sounds of his racing heart and gasps for air. He squeezed his eyes shut in a vain attempt to rid his mind of the agonizing images that had played out in his head. _Elizabeth! _He struggled to free himself from the tangled bedclothes that had wound tightly around his legs from his violent thrashing. Finally freeing himself, he lighted a candle with a trembling hand, eager to dispel the darkness from his room and the disturbing images from his mind. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he ran his hands through his sweat soaked hair, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

_It was just a dream. _He forced those words into his head, repeating them over and over as he took deep even breaths. Unbidden, lingering images from his nightmare replayed in his head and he closed his eyes at the sharp pain in his heart, filling his soul with anguish. He groaned, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his hands buried in his hair. Elizabeth was _his._ He would never leave her! But the look of anguish on his beloved Elizabeth's face as he turned and walked away from her was burned into his mind. His heart twisted in agony at the mere thought of being separated from her. _Not real. It was just a dream._ He yanked his hair, nearly tearing it out by the roots, preferring physical pain over the agony in his heart. Never. He would _never_ let anything separate them.

As his heart rate slowed to its normal rhythm, he stood, walking to the washbasin to splash cold water on his face. As he reached for the cloth, he suddenly recalled a similar nightmare of being separated from Elizabeth. It had occurred after he and Richard had discovered Gardiners deception in falsifying his reports on finding Williamson. As that thought took root in his mind, he stilled, oblivious to the cold water dripping down his face and onto his nightshirt. Closing his eyes, he leaned forward, grasping the edges of the wash stand, fighting to keep the panic from overwhelming his rational mind. _It was a dream, simply a dream! _ No doubt discovering that Williamson had been deceived and separated from the woman he loved had led to his nightmare of being separated from Elizabeth. It had been an emotionally trying time; it was natural that his mind had conjured up a similar scenario. _Nothing. It means nothing. _He took a deep breath, forcing the disquieting images from his mind.

Without looking at his watch he knew it was about an hour before dawn; too early to call for his valet. Needing a distraction, his eyes fell on his writing desk and he smiled. Conjuring up an image of his beautiful Elizabeth, he sat and began to compose his daily letter to her. Words of love, adoration, appreciation and hope for their future flowed from his pen, each stroke dispelling the lingering darkness from his mind and the pain in his heart. He held nothing back, but bore his soul to the woman whom he loved completely and unreservedly. He wrote without pause until the sun began to rise, slowly filling the room with its radiant light. He finished as the rays of the sun passed over his letter, the heavenly light blessing his words of love. He smiled in contentment as he leaned back in the chair, his nightmare but a distant memory.

Standing, he went to the window, gazing out at the garden below him. Closing his eyes, he imagined Elizabeth beside him, holding her close in his embrace as they watched the sunrise together, signifying another day that she was truly his. He sighed. _Soon_. Soon, his dreams of Elizabeth would become a reality. He would secure her hand on Friday and three weeks later he would bind her to him in front of God and man, and nothing would ever come between them.

Opening his eyes, he glanced to his right, half expecting to see Elizabeth smiling up at him, her eyes aglow with love and happiness. The vision was so real, he swallowed the sudden rising lump in his throat, tears obscuring his eyes. Blinking rapidly, he bowed his head, thanking God again for bringing Elizabeth into his life, for making his dreams possible. Never could he have imagined such happiness and peace were meant for him.

Gathering his emotions, he rang for his valet, eager to start the day. He had some pressing matters of business to attend to that morning and the sooner he started, the sooner he could be with Elizabeth.

Despite his early start, Darcy didn't arrive at Gardiners until after one o'clock. Business always took longer than he expected, especially when he had neglected matters for nearly a fortnight. But he felt no regrets at his temporary lack of responsibility, as his time had been spent in much more pleasant endeavors-spending his days with Elizabeth. But there were business matters that could be delayed no longer. The most important and pressing matter of business had been with his solicitor, going over the settlement papers and marriage contract he had drafted the day after he had first seen Elizabeth at Lynton's ball. He wanted to be sure that everything was in order for his journey to Hertfordshire on Friday, wanting no delays in securing Elizabeth's hand. If all went well, he would meet with the Master of Longbourn by noon, and be on his way back to London by three o'clock.

As he ascended the steps to Gardiners, he glanced up at the sky, reassuring himself that the sun was indeed shining brightly. He smiled, breathing a prayer of thanks for the cessation of rain. He feared for his sanity if he had to spend another day with Elizabeth confined to the Drawing Room, with little privacy and no time alone. Although, yesterday had proven to be the exception. He smiled to himself as he thought of their stolen kiss under the not so watchful gaze of Elizabeth's sister. Although, judging by the vivid blush on Miss Bennet's face and her inability to meet their gazes had clearly indicated that their secret kiss had not been so secret after all.

"Happy are we?" Richard smirked at his bright-eyed cousin as they approached the large door, behind which held their two lady loves.

Darcy raised his brows. "Of course. Another day spent with the woman I love. And," he added with a grin, "it's not raining. Which means I can conveniently get lost with Elizabeth in the park."

Richard only laughed as the door was opened by Gardiners efficient and capable butler, Simmons.

The two gentlemen followed Simmons, walking the familiar path to the Drawing Room, each of their thoughts centered on a particular Bennet sister.

Richard leaned over and whispered, "You might want to keep your strategy a secret cousin lest I thwart you in your attempt to steal some time alone with your Miss Elizabeth."

"I'm not worried."

"No?" Richard rubbed his chin, a mischievous smile on his face. "And why is that, I wonder?"

Pausing outside the door as Simmons announced them, Darcy said quietly, "Because I am certain you are hoping for the same thing." He gave Richard a knowing smile. "Make good use of your time today, cousin. Bingley has called on your Miss Bennet twice in the past two days." Darcy smiled wider as he heard Richard growl beside him.

"That insufferable puppy! While I perform my duty to king and country, I get upstaged by a man child!" Richard hissed in an undertone.

Darcy cleared his throat to suppress his laughter. Shaking his head, he entered the Drawing Room, his gaze eagerly searching for Elizabeth. As their gazes locked, he sucked in a breath at the unadulterated love shining from her luminous brown eyes. She was glowing. He walked towards her, unaware of anyone or anything but her; the remarkable woman who held his undeserving heart in her small hands. They stood silent, communicating more eloquently with their eyes than mere spoken words.

Slowly, Elizabeth reached out, tenderly taking his hand in hers, bringing his palm to rest against her cheek. She sighed, closing her eyes at the simple contact, completely at peace. Each day since Saturday, he had sent her a letter as he had promised. Four letters, each more beautiful than the last. But today's letter...her heart raced as she remembered his words. Beautiful. Poignant. Passionate. Never had she felt so beloved, so adored. She knew that he loved her, but his letter today had banished any lingering doubts she had. Her heart rejoiced in the sure knowledge that he was _hers_. Completely. Irrevocably. _Hers_.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, her gaze conveying everything she felt without speaking a word. The intimacy of the moment was not lost on either. Heedless of who was watching, Darcy slowly stepped closer, bringing his other hand up to rest against her soft cheek. Leaning in, he tenderly kissed her forehead, before dropping his lips to linger at her temple. A subtle throat clearing brought them back to the present, but for once, neither cared. Darcy gently caressed her face before lightly resting his hands on her shoulders. Elizabeth trembled at the look in his gaze, and she slowly smiled, her heart full of love for the man standing before her.

_Has there ever been a man who loved a woman as much as I love you? _Fitzwilliam's cherished words from his letter that morning came to her mind, causing her heart to race anew. Seeing Fitzwilliam's eyes widen, she realized with a start that she had spoken the words aloud. Refusing to be embarrassed, she held his gaze and whispered, "That I know not, Fitzwilliam. I only know that no woman has ever loved a man more deeply, more completely than I love you."

"Elizabeth-" Darcy breathed, his eyes melting into hers. He cupped her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb, wishing they were alone so he could properly show her the depth of his love.

Mrs Gardiner cleared her throat again to get the young lovers attention. She remembered those early days of her own betrothal to Edward and she was not unsympathetic to their plight. She knew that whatever was passing between her niece and Mr Darcy was profound and significant, but she felt it incumbent upon her to remind them to behave with propriety. Especially since poor Jane looked like she would rather be anywhere but witnessing such a tender moment between the two acknowledged lovers. And the Colonel...she stifled a laugh at the unabashed look on his face as he gazed at his cousin and Elizabeth.

Deciding that further steps were needed to break the lover's spell, she asked in a rather loud voice, "I understand that you are traveling to Hertfordshire on Friday to secure Elizabeth's hand, Mr Darcy."

Without breaking Elizabeth's gaze, Darcy answered in the affirmative, running his hands down her arms to clasp her hands in each of his.

"I believe that is most prudent," Mrs Gardiner replied, nodding her head sagely.

Elizabeth tore her gaze from her betrothed to glance at her Aunt. Seeing her knowing smile and twinkling eyes, she blushed a becoming crimson. Moving her gaze to her sister and Colonel Fitzwilliam, her blush deepened at seeing her sisters obvious discomfort and the Colonel's amusement at their blatant display. Glancing back at Fitzwilliam, she was unsurprised that his eyes were still locked on her face, oblivious to anything but her; his intense gaze full of longing and unspoken promises.

With a slight blush to her cheeks, she turned to address the entire room. "It is a lovely day. Perhaps we could all take a turn about the park?"

Darcy's answering smile was exultant. "You read my mind, Miss Elizabeth." Turning to his cousin, standing next to a blushing Miss Bennet, he raised his brows and asked, "Is that agreeable to you both?"

Jane mumbled something unintelligibly, her crimson face turned away from the Colonel. The Colonel gazed at her, his expression tender as he answered, "_Very_ agreeable, cousin."

Mrs Gardiner excused herself, stating she had some correspondence to write, trusting that each sister would act as chaperone for the other. _If she only knew..._Darcy exchanged a triumphant look with his cousin before returning his attention to Elizabeth.

Soon, the two couples were walking leisurely toward the park, Jane and Richard walking ahead of the engaged couple. Darcy and Elizabeth walked silently, arm in arm, content in each others presence and being out of doors after being confined inside for three interminable days. After a short time, Darcy asked if Elizabeth had talked with her Uncle.

Elizabeth shook her head. "He is not ready to face me yet, Fitzwilliam." She smiled sadly. "He needs to work through his demons on his own. My Aunt told me to be patient."

Darcy nodded, bringing his free hand to cover hers resting on his arm. "He will come around, Elizabeth. He has carried his guilt for a long time. I imagine it cannot be easy to come to terms with his failings as a brother."

Elizabeth looked up at Fitzwilliam's serious face. "But did he fail my mother?" She shook her head. "I am of the opinion that he was simply doing what he thought was best."

Darcy halted their progress. Trying to keep his temper under control, he asked in a tight voice, "And if someone tried to separate you from me? Would you also think that was best?"

Elizabeth stared open mouthed at Fitzwilliam, her face going white. "No," she whispered. "No, of course not." She tried desperately to remain composed as her heart constricted in pain; the very thought of being separated from Fitzwilliam was too painful to contemplate.

Seeing Elizabeth's whitened countenance, Darcy felt immediate remorse. "Forgive me, my love. Of course, it is not the same." Darcy mentally kicked himself. How could he be so callous? His nightmare of being separated from Elizabeth had affected him more intensely than he thought. He knew his fears were unwarranted; their situation was nothing like Williamson and Mrs Bennet. There was nothing or no one standing in their way. All would be well.

Elizabeth didn't respond and they resumed their leisurely pace. As they entered the park and started down their preferred path, she thought of Fitzwilliam's question. What could she say? She had thought the exact same thing, imaging herself in her Mother's place, being separated from the man she loved and had agreed to marry. She closed her eyes, forcing that agonizing thought away. She opened her eyes, startled to see that Fitzwilliam was staring at her, his eyes full of remorse and...fear?

Elizabeth smiled reassuringly. "Please, don't trouble yourself, Fitzwilliam. I understand what you are saying. I am not excusing my Uncle or my Father's behavior. Lying to Mr Williamson and my mother was very badly done, but they didn't do so maliciously. They both acted out of love for my Mother, thinking that they knew what was best for her."

"And was it, Elizabeth? Is your mother happy with their choice?"

Elizabeth sighed deeply, looking down. "No, she is not." She then proceeded to explain what Jane had told her, about her Mother never being pleased with anything. That her discontentment in life stemmed from her inability to find joy in her life, regardless of what she did or did not have. "She would have been unhappy even if she had married Mr Williamson, Fitzwilliam. Of that, I am quite certain."

Darcy contemplated Elizabeth's words. As he thought about Gardiner and Bennet and their motives, surprisingly, he felt his heart soften towards the two men. He pitied Mr Bennet; to be burdened with such a bitter and spiteful woman. Did Bennet regret his decision to separate the object of his affections from a seemingly undeserving clerk? Would he make the same decision again? Whatever his motives, Bennet's ill judged decision gave him Elizabeth. And for that, he would be forever grateful for that decision made years ago.

As he delved deeper into Bennet's possible motive, he was left with an astonishing truth. Bennet had acted as a man desperately in love. He placed himself in Bennet's position. What if another man had secured Elizabeth's affections? The mere thought of Elizabeth with another man caused his heart to constrict with the acutest pain. What would he have done to secure her hand, make her his? Could he fault Bennet for doing what was necessary to secure the woman he loved? As he pondered this chain of thought, he realized something he had overlooked. If Bennet had truly loved Elizabeth's mother, he would have acted in a manner that was best for her, regardless of how he felt. He would have asked her, instead of deceiving her, making the decision to marry her without her consent. He had acted selfishly, thinking only of his own happiness and not of the woman he purported to love. And that was why he could not condone Bennet's decision. Heaven forbid, if he were in a similar situation and if he truly loved Elizabeth, he would do anything to secure her happiness. Even if it meant that happiness was with someone else.

Upon further reflection, he found he couldn't fault Gardiners motives either. If he was in Gardiners place, and a clerk and gentleman came to offer for his sister, assuming that the gentleman was of good character, he would have made the exact same decision. What brother didn't want his sister to be well provided for? A small voice in the back of his mind whispered, what about love? Mutual affection? Respect? Could he deny his sister true love? Sacrifice her happiness for respectability and financial security? He gave a mental groan. This was a pointless endeavor! He was not in the same situation, and for that he was thankful.

Towards Williamson, he felt nothing but compassion. Obviously, he didn't know the true nature of the woman he had pledged himself to. In his opinion, he had a lucky escape. Perhaps it was best that he mourned the idealized woman he had loved, instead of living with the reality of the bitter woman she would have become. Towards Mrs Bennet, he could never feel anything but contempt due to her horrendous treatment of the woman he loved. He felt she had received what she deserved; a woman like that didn't deserve happiness.

Elizabeth glanced up at Fitzwilliam's contemplative expression, knowing he was taking the time to consider her opinion. Most men would have just dismissed her opinions without giving them any consideration. But not her Fitzwilliam. She truly had found a partner, an equal to share her life with. Although he had a greater understanding due to his life experiences and education, he never made her feel that her opinions were less valued than his own. Even when he disagreed with her, he was always respectful. Was it any wonder she loved him so? She sighed happily, knowing that life with Fitzwilliam would be wonderful, idyllic, heavenly; a true meeting of like minds and hearts. But she was not so naïve to believe that they would not have their trials and disagreements. They each had such passionate and independent natures, there was bound to be discord. But the foundation of their relationship was based on mutual respect and unconditional love. She knew she could trust him, with her heart, her life, her dreams as well as her insecurities and fears. With that knowledge, she knew they would be blissfully happy. She was pulled from her happy musings as Fitzwilliam began speaking, his voice measured but firm.

"I cannot fault Gardiner for his actions, as I would have acted in like manner. Like you, I cannot condone his methods, but I have to concede that his motives were pure." Darcy gave Elizabeth a small smile. "As for your father, I find myself somewhat sympathetic towards him. He acted as a man in love. And that I can understand quite well. However, he acted selfishly, giving no thought to what your mother wanted. I understand that she was young and immature, but no man should treat the woman he loves with such disrespect. Even when he feels he is right." He glanced down at Elizabeth, noticing the tears she was trying desperately to blink away.

"Elizabeth?" Darcy's brow lowered in puzzlement. He stopped, forcing her to look at him with a gentle finger under her chin.

Elizabeth met Fitzwilliam's questioning look and she smiled. "Thank you, Fitzwilliam. For listening and trying to understand. It means so much to me. You truly are the best man I have ever known."

Darcy felt a wave of tenderness and love sweep over him as he gazed at Elizabeth, her eyes full of gratitude. "I meant what I said, Elizabeth. I will always treat you with the respect you deserve. That is my promise to you, my love." Darcy took a deep breath, before continuing, his voice hard. "But, there is one person whose actions I can never justify nor condone." Darcy paused as he searched Elizabeth's face. He saw understanding dawn in her brown eyes and she nodded her head, a resigned smile on her lovely face.

"My mother," she whispered.

Darcy nodded slowly. "Yes, your mother. She's hurt you, Elizabeth, deeply. The disdain of a mother towards her own child is inexcusable, unnatural, unforgiveable. I have seen firsthand the pain she's caused, and I cannot forgive her for that. I understand that you need to, and I accept that. But please, don't ask me to."

Elizabeth looked at Fitzwilliam, the pain clearly evident in his eyes. She understood, truly she did. He couldn't contemplate a Mother's contempt, having known nothing but love and acceptance from his own Mother. Although, they were more similar than he realized: She was not the only one who had been deeply hurt by their Mother, they each bore emotional scars that needed healing. She vowed to help Fitzwilliam overcome the hurt from his Mother's passing as he was helping her overcome her Mother's disdain.

"I understand, Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth said softly, her eyes conveying acceptance and sympathy.

Relieved, Darcy kissed her gloved hand before tucking it firmly under his arm. They resumed walking in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Elizabeth realized there was no sign of the Colonel or Jane. She smiled softly to herself, hopeful that he would take advantage of the time to finally ask her sister that all important question. As they neared the grove of trees where she'd had her conversation with Mr Williamson the week before, they stopped. She let her mind drift back to that day and all she had learned about Mr Williamson and her mother, and later about her Uncle and Father. She could not regret Mr Williamson's ruse to get her alone as their conversation had been the beginning of better understanding her Mother, Father, Uncle and even herself. She felt a sudden wave of compassion for the dying man who had stayed true to her mother's memory.

She glanced up at Fitzwilliam and immediately all thoughts of Mr Williamson fled her mind as she met his eyes, his gaze burning her with its intensity. She saw the unspoken question clearly in his eyes and her heart rate picked up in breathless anticipation. He steered her toward the grove of trees, his stride quick, his expression impatient. Elizabeth huffed a small laugh causing Fitzwilliam to look down at her with an apologetic smile, but he didn't slow his movements until they had reached the secluded privacy of the trees.

Wordlessly they gazed at each other, the anticipation slowly building as they stared into each other's eyes. Fitzwilliam quickly divested himself of his hat and gloves, dropping them carelessly to the ground. Then with slow, deliberate movements he removed her bonnet, dropping it to the ground beside his own. Raising one hand, he carefully removed her glove before pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin of her inner wrist, his lips lingering on her fluttering pulse before repeating the same service to her other hand.

Closing the distance between them, he raised his hand and with a finger he slowly caressed each feature of her face with adoring tenderness, his eyes following the movement, his expression soft and full of love. Elizabeth closed her eyes as his finger passed over her lids with the gentlest of touches.

"I love your eyes, Elizabeth." His low voice traced each word with loving reverence. "They see into the depths of my soul and when I gaze into them I discover who I am meant to be."

Elizabeth felt her eyes sting with unshed tears as she recognized the beautiful words from his letter that morning. He lowered his head, gently rubbing his lips at her temple as he continued to whisper words of adoration and love. She discerned his sincerity in every word, every gentle caress. She let his words wash over her, soothing her battered soul and healing the scars caused by her Mother's disdain.

Fitzwilliam gently pressed his forefinger on her breast, over her rapidly beating heart, and reverently whispered, "But most of all, I love your kind and generous heart, of which I will strive to be worthy every day of my life."

Elizabeth opened her eyes, causing a single tear to run down her cheek. Fitzwilliam gently brushed it away with the back of his hand before gently cupping her face, his thumb rubbing slowly and incessantly over her lower lip. He stared into her eyes for a long moment, before his gaze dropped to her lips. With a contented sigh, Elizabeth once again closed her eyes, lifting her chin to receive Fitzwilliam's kiss. Unlike yesterday's stolen and clandestine kiss, which had been full of unrestrained passion and need, this kiss was tender, his touch gentle as his mouth covered hers in slow, worshipful movements; conveying in the most eloquent way possible the depth of his love and devotion.

Elizabeth felt her heart swell with an overwhelming feeling of love and a sense of rightness and belonging as she was held securely in his arms. She knew this was where she was meant to be. She didn't know if meeting Fitzwilliam was due to destiny or was simply a serendipitous accident. Truth be told, she didn't really care. But she felt profoundly grateful and divinely blessed that they had found one another; that he loved her as she loved him. With Fitzwilliam, she had found her purpose, her reason for living. Until he came into her life, she had hoped, but never believed that such a love was meant for her. But this was no dream, this was real. He was here and he was _hers_.

Suddenly, the tenor of Fitzwilliam's kiss changed. His tender, worshipful kisses turned passionate, but tinged with desperation. His arms around her tightened almost painfully, forcing the air from her lungs. She broke the kiss, gasping for air, her heart beating wildly in her chest as Fitzwilliam lowered his head to her shoulder, his breathing ragged. To her astonishment, she could feel him trembling. Knowing that something was wrong, she brought a hand to his head, running her fingers through his hair in a soothing manner. In response, he turned his head to the side, kissing the side of her neck. Raising his head, he proceeded to place desperate kisses on her face, his hands gripping her waist painfully.

"Fitzwilliam? What's wrong?" Elizabeth asked, her voice laced with concern and confusion.

He paused in his desperate ministrations, bringing his forehead to rest against hers, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Promise that you will never leave me, Elizabeth," He whispered, his voice low and hoarse.

"Fitzwilliam, look at me," Elizabeth answered softly.

Slowly, he raised his head, opening his eyes to meet Elizabeth's concerned gaze. She was shocked at what she saw in the depth of his eyes: despair, anguish, fear.

"What happened? What is this about?"

Darcy took a shuddering breath, shaking his head. "Nothing. It is nothing." His voice was so low, Elizabeth could barely hear him.

Placing her hands on either side of his head, she asked fervently, "Why would you think I could ever leave you?"

Darcy gripped Elizabeth's waist, pulling her into his embrace. He held her tightly, telling himself that he was being ridiculous and irrational. She was here, with him. She would never leave him, nor would anything persuade him to leave her. As he had kissed her, he had suddenly been assailed with images from his nightmare: of him turning his back on Elizabeth and walking away, her face full of anguish and despair. This had swiftly been followed by an image from his first nightmare: of Elizabeth being snatched from his arms by an unseen force, disappearing from his sight. The feeling of being separated from Elizabeth had been so painful and so real that he had reacted instinctively out of desperation and fear. He felt a sudden wave of shame wash over him as he remembered his less than gentlemanly behavior, knowing that he had frightened her.

"Forgive me, Elizabeth. I didn't mean to frighten you."

Elizabeth searched his face, her gaze softening. "You could never frighten me, Fitzwilliam," she answered in a soft voice. "But something happened just now. Please tell me," she pleaded.

He released his tight grip, pulling back slightly so he could better see her face. He traced her face with his eyes, memorizing each beloved feature. Taking a deep breath, he replied, "I've had two nightmares this past week of us being separated." He regarded her with a solemn expression. "I suppose it has affected me more than I thought."

Elizabeth nodded in understanding, bringing her hand to rest against his face, her thumb gently caressing his cheek. "It is understandable, Fitzwilliam, given what we have learned about Mr Williamson and my mother." She paused, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat. "Although I have had no nightmares of us being separated, I have put myself in my Mother's place, of how I would feel if you were separated from me." She closed her eyes at the sharp pain that pierced her breast. "I can imagine that it is as agonizingly painful for you as it is for me."

Darcy sighed deeply, turning his head to kiss her palm. "Yes, it is. And you are right, all this emotional turmoil regarding Williamson and your mother is to blame. It has been on my mind much of late which explains why it has carried over to my dreams. I know my fears are unfounded, that nothing could ever separate us. But, I am still grateful that I will be traveling to Longbourn in two days instead of two weeks. The sooner I have secured your hand, the sooner we can be married." Darcy raised Elizabeth's hand to place a lingering kiss on her knuckles.

Elizabeth smiled, a slight blush suffusing her face. She raised a brow, her eyes dancing with amusement. "In the meantime, we will just have to find something more pleasant to think about, so your dreams are happy."

Darcy gave Elizabeth a slow smile as he wrapped both arms around her waist. "What do you propose, Elizabeth?" he responded in a low, intimate tone as he drew her closer.

"I can think of any number of pleasant things to replace your maudlin thoughts, Fitzwilliam." Elizabeth knew she was repeating herself, but she found it difficult to keep a coherent thought in her head when he looked at her in such an intense way.

Darcy lowered his head to place a kiss on the corner of her mouth, smiling when she gasped slightly. Ghosting his lips over hers, he whispered, "Such as?"

Elizabeth was unable to concentrate on anything but the feel of his lips as they found the sensitive spot below her ear. She closed her eyes with a soft sigh, leaning her head to the side as his lips trailed down the side of her neck. "Mmmmm."

Darcy smiled, raising his head slightly to look at Elizabeth. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed a becoming pink, mouth parted slightly. Utter perfection. Unable to deny himself, he lowered his head to capture her tempting lips in a fervent kiss.

When they broke apart sometime later, Elizabeth rested her head against Fitzwilliam's chest, listening to his racing heart. She smiled, pleased that he was as affected by her as she was by him. "Did that help, Fitzwilliam?"

Darcy's eyes were closed in utter contentment, his chin resting on top of Elizabeth's head, marveling again how perfectly she fit in his arms. He was vaguely aware that Elizabeth had said something. "Hmmmm?"

Elizabeth leaned back, looking up at Fitzwilliam with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "I'll take that as a yes."

Darcy narrowed his eyes. "You are a _minx_."

Elizabeth laughed. She opened her mouth to respond when the distinctive sounds of people were heard walking in their direction. She looked at Fitzwilliam, her eyes widening in alarm. She quickly picked up her bonnet, placing in on her head before retrieving her gloves. Fitzwilliam did the same, and taking her arm he led her further into the grove of trees. When they came to the small clearing, they both stopped abruptly, trying to process what they were seeing.

"Is that...?" Elizabeth broke away from Fitzwilliam, walking further towards the trio that were sitting on the bench under the tree. As she neared, she saw that it was indeed, Mr Williamson sitting beside her sister and Colonel Fitzwilliam. She paused briefly, her emotions conflicted. She hadn't expected to see Mr Williamson again, but now that he was here she discovered that she was glad.

Just then, Jane looked up and seeing her sister and Mr Darcy, smiled widely, raising a hand in welcome. Colonel Fitzwilliam stood, his expression inscrutable. Mr Williamson began to stand, but Elizabeth rushed forward, raising a hand to forestall his progress.

"Please, don't get up, sir." Elizabeth smiled at the older man. She greeted her sister and the Colonel briefly, before turning to address Mr Williamson. She noticed immediately that his color was better and his piercing green eyes had a certain vitality that hadn't been present before. "It is good to see you again, Mr Williamson. How are you, sir?"

Mr Williamson's eyes lit up when he saw her, his eyes shining with a quiet happiness. He bowed from his seated position. "A pleasure, Miss Elizabeth. I am well enough, thank you."

Fitzwilliam joined them and he nodded politely at the gentleman. Although he had met Williamson, the circumstances of their meeting had been unusual so they had not been properly introduced. After Elizabeth made the introduction, he let his attention wander to his cousin who had been unusually silent. Seeing his cousin's forlorn expression, he nearly started laughing. He immediately deduced that Richard had sought out a quiet spot to formally ask Miss Bennet for a courtship only to find that it was already occupied. And judging by his despondent expression, he had not yet had a chance to ask. Poor Richard. Luck was just not on his side today. When Richard met his eye, Darcy smirked, nodding his head discreetly in Miss Bennet's direction. He raised his brows in a silent inquiry, smiling when Richard shook his head and scowled. Darcy couldn't help but feel a sense of justice about his cousin's situation. Richard had dragged his feet for too long with Miss Bennet. He thought it would be good for him to struggle a bit before securing her hand.

He turned his attention to the quiet conversation that was taking place between Elizabeth, her sister and Mr Williamson.

"May I say how much better you are looking today, Mr Williamson?" Elizabeth's soft voice was full of tender concern.

Williamson sighed. "I have my good days and my bad days, Miss Elizabeth. Today is a good day, which is why you find me here. It is the first time I have left my room since..." His voice trailed off and a brief flash of pain crossed his face.

Elizabeth smiled in silent understanding. She knew that bringing up the subject of her mother would be unwise so she asked about his life in Scotland. Elizabeth and Jane listened as he told them about his work as a solicitor, his Aunt and her husband. Judging by his contented expression, his life had been a good one despite his grief over her Mother. She was glad. A good man like him deserved to have some happiness in his life. She only wished that he could have moved on and found someone else to love, share his life with; have a family of his own. But as she reflected further, she found she couldn't fault him for his decision to stay true to her Mother's memory. For she knew she would act in the same way. She would never love anyone but Fitzwilliam, never marry anyone but him. She would rather be alone than spend her life with someone else.

She noticed that Mr Williamson seemed nervous and he kept opening his mouth as if to speak before closing it with a small shake of his head. After a minute of this behavior he finally spoke, his voice hesitant.

"Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth," he began, his voice unsure. "Would you... that is... could you tell me a little about yourselves? And your siblings? I am assuming there are others?"

Elizabeth shared a brief look with her sister before Jane turned to Mr Williamson with a smile. "Yes, we have siblings, sir. I am the eldest, then Elizabeth, whom we all call Lizzy. Then there is Mary, Catherine, whom we call Kitty and Lydia."

As Jane spoke, Elizabeth watched Mr Williamson closely to see if he reacted in a similar manner as he heard her sisters names. She didn't know whether to be glad or disappointed when he showed only a mild interest in hearing them. Why did her name elicit such a strong reaction?

"You have no brothers, then?"

"No sir. Just us five girls."

Mr Williamson nodded his head, a faraway expression on his face. Finally, he looked up, acting startled that they were there. Shaking his head slightly, he said with chagrin, "Forgive my absentmindedness. Would you tell me about your sisters?"

Elizabeth responded with a warm smile. "With pleasure, sir." For the next ten minutes, she regaled Mr Williamson with anecdotes about herself and her four sisters, highlighting the good times they had growing up. She was careful not to mention her Mother or Father. When she was done, Mr Williamson reached over and patted her hand.

"Thank you, my dear. It sounds like you had an idyllic childhood. I am glad."

Elizabeth bit her lip, turning her head away from Mr Williamson's gaze. She had not been untruthful with Mr Williamson, but neither had she been completely honest. She had deliberately left out all the unpleasantness she had experienced, focusing more on her sisters. She met Fitzwilliam's eyes and he smiled in quiet understanding.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and turned to her sister. Raising a brow, she asked teasingly, "Jane, do you have anything to add about our 'idyllic' childhood?"

Jane laughed softly and turned to Mr Williamson, ready to share some more tales of the five Bennet sisters. Her smile died as she saw the color drain from his face.

"Mr Williamson, are you well, sir?" Jane's quiet entreaty drew Elizabeth's attention.

Upon seeing his whitened countenance, Elizabeth realized with sudden clarity that Mr Williamson had not heard Jane's name before now as she would have introduced herself as Miss Bennet. Elizabeth watched as Mr Williamson stared at Jane, an agonized look in his eyes.

"Jane. Fanny named you Jane." Mr Williamson's quiet whisper was full of pain and regret.

Elizabeth looked up at Fitzwilliam, needing his reassuring gaze. Sensing her need, he stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She noticed that Colonel Fitzwilliam stepped as close as he could to Jane as well, his brows lowered in confusion as his gaze wandered between Jane and Mr Williamson.

Jane looked at Mr Williamson in confusion. "Yes, my Mother named me Jane." She hesitated briefly before inquiring, "Why would that disturb you so, sir?"

He didn't answer, but continued to stare at Jane before moving his tortured gaze to Elizabeth. "Jane and Elizabeth," he whispered, his gaze never wavering from their faces. "Should have been mine." He lowered his head, his countenance broken-hearted.

Elizabeth and Jane stared at each other, eyes wide with confusion. Elizabeth's natural curiosity was exerting itself and she was warring with her need to _know_ the significance of her and her sisters name over Mr Williamson's obvious pain. Neither sister spoke, both unsure what to say. She felt Fitzwilliam squeeze her shoulder gently and she reached up to place a hand over his.

Without preamble, Mr Williamson began to speak, his voice so low that they had to lean in to hear what he was saying. "After Fanny agreed to marry me, we discussed names for children. _Our_ children. Fanny had always loved the name Jane and decreed it would be the name of our firstborn daughter." He looked up, his eyes full of pain and regret. "I agreed, except if our firstborn resembled her, then she would be named Elizabeth."

Elizabeth's heart began beating painfully in her chest. They wanted to name the daughter that resembled her Mother, Elizabeth? Why?

As if hearing her unspoken question, Mr Williamson looked up and holding her gaze, explained, "Elizabeth was the name of my Mother, you see. She died when I was a young man and I wanted the daughter who resembled my dear Fanny to carry my Mother's name. In honor of the two women I held most dear." He took a deep breath before continuing in a shaking voice. "When you told me that Fanny...your Mother, was alive and had married...I felt betrayed, that she had deliberately deceived me." He smiled and his countenance changed, his eyes lit with a soft glow. "But then you told me your name was Elizabeth...that my Fanny had named the daughter that resembled her after my Mother like we had discussed and...I _knew_. I knew that she hadn't forgotten me, that she loved me still."

Elizabeth was startled when a handkerchief appeared in her line of vision. She stared at it uncomprehendingly, before following the hand that held it to meet the compassionate gaze of Fitzwilliam. She stared at him blankly until he leaned down and gently wiped the tears from her face with his handkerchief. She hadn't even realized that she had been crying. She took his proffered handkerchief with a tremulous smile, noticing that Jane was blinking back tears. Her sister reached over and squeezed her hand.

Elizabeth's mind was reeling with this information. Her Mother had named her Elizabeth. Her _Mother_. She always assumed that her Father had chosen her name. But to learn the significance of her name, not only to the man sitting beside her, but to her Mother was staggering. She needed time alone to consider the implications of this new knowledge, and what it meant in relation to her Mother's behavior towards her all these years. But not now. Her mind was too troubled to think clearly. She took a shuddering breath before redirecting her gaze to Mr Williamson.

He was gazing at her and Jane in concern. "I hope what I said didn't upset you, my dears. If so, I heartily beg your pardon."

"No, not at all, sir," Jane was quick to reassure him. "My sister and I just find what happened between you and Mama to be heartbreaking. That is all."

Elizabeth directed her gaze downward, unable to meet Mr Williamson's gaze, afraid of what he would see in her eyes. She felt the comforting weight of Fitzwilliam's hand on her shoulder and she focused on him and his reassuring presence and strength. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Colonel Fitzwilliam shift slightly. Turning her head, her breath caught at the look of tender concern on his face as he looked on her sister. _He loves her. _She smiled to herself, glancing at her sister to see if she was aware that the Colonel's gaze was fixed on her lovely profile.

Her inner musings were interrupted as Mr Williamson's suddenly staggered to his feet, swaying slightly before steadying himself with his cane. She quickly stood followed by her sister. He turned to them, a sad, resigned smile on his face.

"I have kept you here long enough. I thank you, my dears for taking the time to talk with me. It has lightened my heart. Please, forgive me if I caused you any distress."

Jane was quick to reassure him as Elizabeth watched his face for any signs of physical pain or discomfort. She didn't want him walking unassisted if he was ill. "May we be of assistance, sir?"

Mr Williamson smiled down at Elizabeth. "No, my dear. You have already helped me. More than you know. I bid you all a good day." He pressed a quick kiss to her hand and Jane's, bowed to the two gentlemen and left the small clearing at a slow, but steady pace.

Elizabeth watched him go, unaware that Fitzwilliam had come up beside her until he reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with renewed anguish. "No more secrets, Fitzwilliam. I cannot handle any more secrets," she whispered in a broken voice. "Why did my Mother name me Elizabeth? Why give me _his_ Mother's name and then treat me so coldly?" She shook her head. "I don't understand."

Darcy's heart broke at seeing Elizabeth's pain. How he wished he could give her the answers she sought. But he knew the only person who could was her Mother. If he knew his Elizabeth, she would confront her Mother and he vowed to be there when she did.

A/N: First of all, I apologize profusely for not updating in two weeks. As much as I hate the heat, I was reluctant to bid farewell to summer, so I've been taking lots of day trips with the fam. Also, I've been reading *gasp* instead of writing in my spare time - LOTR FF to be exact. My personality borders on the obsessive at times and needless to say, I became obsessed with LOTR (There's just too many good ff stories featuring my favorite character - Éomer ;-) So I've been staying up way too late to read... Just. One. More. Chapter! causing me to be sleep deprived during the day. So I've been napping with my kiddos which is when I usually write. But, my obsessive streak regarding LOTR has passed (for now...temporarily), so my 'spare time' focus is back on writing.

With that said, I just want to reiterate that I WILL finish this story. My personality does not allow me to leave things uncompleted. So don't worry if there are times when it takes longer than a week to post a chapter. But if you want to send me a message telling me how much you miss my posts, I won't mind a bit ;-).

Please review and tell me what you thought about JW revelation. I know that to many (or most) of you it was probably not much of a surprise. But I'm sure I surprised you with the revelation about Jane's name. I'm sure it's making your heads spin as you try to figure out why Mrs B dislikes E but not J. You'll just have to keep guessing a little bit longer.

Also, I am sorry that I haven't responded to your reviews in a long time. But know that I read and re-read every single one and they never cease to motivate me to keep writing. You are my muse and I thank you from the bottom of my heart!

Until next time!

Much love,

MAH

P.S. If any of you want to send me your LOTR ff recs, I wouldn't mind a bit :)


	34. Chapter 34

A **huge** thank you to my beta, the incomparable, CassandraLowry.

Chapter 33

The two couples were silent as they made their way back to the town house, each lost in their own thoughts. Elizabeth was reeling with the information imparted just moments ago by Mr. Williamson. She still couldn't comprehend the fact that _her mother_ had named her Elizabeth after Mr. Williamson's mother. Why? Why name the daughter she disdained after her lost love's mother? A quiet voice whispered that her mother hadn't always treated her so disdainfully. When she was younger, her mother had constantly worried and fretted over all her children, convinced that every cold or scraped knee would lead to their untimely demise. Despite her mother's excitable and frivolous behavior and her susceptibility to palpitations and tremors whenever she was displeased or distressed, Elizabeth knew she was loved and wanted. But that had all changed. From around the time that Elizabeth was eight years of age, her mother's attitude towards her had rapidly deteriorated.

Knowing the connection between Mr. Williamson and her mother gave Elizabeth insight into her mother's behavior, but she still didn't understand how that knowledge was related to her mother's disdain. If anything, she was left with more questions than answers. Why her? Her mother clearly favored her eldest and youngest daughters, but Mary and Kitty were not treated as contemptuously as Elizabeth. What made her different from her sisters? Her thoughts wandered to her father, and she smiled. What would she have done without his kind attention? His approbation? When she had first ventured into her father's sanctuary, it had been a place of unexplored wonders waiting to be discovered. Her father had nurtured and encouraged her inquisitiveness and thirst for knowledge, and she found that she enjoyed spending the majority of her time with him, debating their opinions over anything and everything. Two like souls, bonding together over their shared love of the written word and intelligent conversation. Over the years, his sanctuary had become hers as well. There she was accepted and valued for who she was. Her mother had no place there; her censure had no power. Elizabeth had been free to discover and grow under the steady, guiding influence of her father. She knew that he felt he had done her an injustice, encouraging her thirst for knowledge and the free expression of her opinions without fear. But despite her father's unconventional methods of teaching her, she would be forever grateful to him for embracing her instead of pushing her away as her mother had done.

As the four entered the town house, Elizabeth's musings were interrupted by Simmons coming to inform Fitzwilliam that her uncle wished to see him. Elizabeth felt a flash of annoyance towards her uncle. Hadn't she been trying to talk to him for five days now? What could he want with Fitzwilliam? When she expressed such to her betrothed, he gave her an understanding smile.

"Why don't you come with me, Elizabeth? Your uncle cannot refuse to see you forever."

Elizabeth started towards her uncle's study with Fitzwilliam when Simmons subtly cleared his throat.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Elizabeth, but Mr. Gardiner asked only to see Mr. Darcy. Also, Mrs. Gardiner is currently not at home..." His voice trailed off as he directed his gaze to her sister and Colonel Fitzwilliam who were headed in the direction of the drawing room.

Elizabeth pushed down her disappointment. Seeing her sister and the Colonel, she raised her brows, a slight smile on her face. "I see. We cannot have my sister and the good Colonel alone together now, can we?"

Simmons pursed his lips. "That is not for me to say, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth exchanged an amused look with Fitzwilliam. Simmons had been very...accommodating with them, giving them time to be together alone. Perhaps he only felt comfortable doing so because they were engaged to be married. She reluctantly bid farewell to Fitzwilliam and headed to the drawing room at a leisurely pace.

Darcy watched Elizabeth follow her sister and his cousin with a concerned expression on his face. He knew she was troubled by what Williamson had imparted about the significance of her name, and he didn't wish to leave her at such a time. Hopefully, this meeting with Gardiner would be short so that he could return to her side. He pushed down his anger towards Gardiner; he really should be speaking to Elizabeth, not him. At the very least, he could use this time to remind Gardiner that his niece had wanted to speak with him for the past five days. He couldn't go on ignoring her forever.

A soft cough drew his attention away from watching Elizabeth. Simmons was observing him, a knowing expression on his face. Darcy straightened, flushing slightly at being so obvious. For a man who valued his privacy, being caught watching a woman, even if that woman was his future wife, by a servant was unacceptable. Perhaps he would not recommend a bonus for the efficient butler.

"If you'll follow me, sir."

Darcy glanced once more at Elizabeth's retreating figure before reluctantly following Simmons. As he walked the familiar path to Gardiners study, his mind wandered back to his walk with Elizabeth, pausing on their brief interlude in the grove of trees. Another wave of fear encompassed his soul, causing his heart to race. _This was ridiculous!_ His fears were unfounded, caused by the heightened emotions of Williamson and Mrs. Bennet, nothing more. The mere idea of _that woman_ causing him unwarranted stress and fear was galling.

Before long, he heard Simmons announce his arrival, and, taking a deep breath, Darcy entered Gardiner's study, prepared for anything. His first look at Gardiner caused his confident stride to falter in concern. Gardiner was seated in his customary place of dominance behind his large mahogany desk. Gone was the confident man Darcy had come to know. Before him was a man broken, his posture bent, his gaze unfocused and weary. His reddened eyes were punctuated with dark circles, a clear indication that he had not been sleeping well. It was obvious to Darcy that Gardiner was suffering the guilt of a tormented soul. He appeared to have aged at least ten years in the past five days. Darcy couldn't help but feel pity for the man.

With a start, he realized that Gardiner had been silently observing him with a weary and resigned expression. "Darcy. Please have a seat." His voice sounded hoarse, as if he hadn't used it in some time.

Wordlessly, Darcy sat in the chair across from Gardiner's desk. He couldn't help contrasting this meeting with his first meeting with the man: the day he came to ask to court Elizabeth. So much had happened since then. Was it really just one month ago?

"I am sure you are wondering why I asked to speak with you."

Darcy merely nodded. He was a patient man; he would let Gardiner dictate this meeting on his own terms. He had no wish to make whatever he had to say harder for him. As much as he disagreed with his duplicity in keeping Elizabeth ignorant of the answers she sought regarding Williamson and her mother, he had found the courage to tell her even though it had cost him to do so. He could afford to show compassion for the man sitting across from him.

Without preamble, Gardiner said, "I wish you to accompany me to visit Williamson."

Darcy stared blankly at Gardiner. Of all the things he was expecting him to say, that had not even crossed his mind. "I beg your pardon? You wish to visit Williamson?"

"Yes. I..." Gardiner paused to take a deep breath. "I need to ask his forgiveness."

Darcy was surprised and pleased with his decision. A lesser man would have brushed aside his mistakes, made excuses and gone on with his life, indifferent to the harm he had caused. Although Gardiner had kept silent for twenty-five years, he had confessed, and now he wished to make amends. He knew it was not easy for a man to admit his mistakes, his faults, especially to another.

"Of course, if that is your wish. I am happy to be of service. But, it you don't mind me asking, why do you wish for me to accompany you?"

Gardiner looked at Darcy for a long moment, considering his words. "I find I am not strong enough to face Williamson alone after all these years. And I respect you, Darcy. You have proven to be a trustworthy and an honorable man; a man I will be proud to call 'nephew.'"

Darcy swallowed as he shifted slightly in his chair, uncomfortable at Gardiner's high praise. It had been years since he had heard any type of approbation from another, not since his father.

Darcy nodded his head. "Thank you, Gardiner. But I think you'll find that Williamson is not one to hold a grudge. Perhaps it's because he knows that he is nearing the end of his life."

A shadow of pain flashed in Gardiner's eyes at Darcy's words. "Yes, I suppose that makes sense."

"When do you wish to see him?"

Gardiner straightened, his despondency giving way to resolve. "Today, I hope. I've already sent a note requesting an audience." He stood, walking to the window to look out at the busy street below. "I am still waiting for the footman to return with his reply."

Darcy nodded. "Well, it might be awhile. We just spoke with him in the park."

Gardiner spun around in surprise. "You spoke with him? What about? I cannot imagine he had much to say considering the nature of Lizzy's meeting with him last week."

"He wished to hear about your nieces, Gardiner."

Gardiner sat, his expression stunned. "He wished to know about Fanny's daughters? Why?"

Darcy shrugged. "I also found it a surprising request. But he seemed to truly enjoy your nieces' company and hearing about their lives."

Gardiner raised his brows. "Indeed? Well, I find that rather astonishing. I would not think he would be able to hear about Fanny's life with another man."

"He didn't ask after Mrs. Bennet or Mr. Bennet, and your nieces didn't volunteer any information. He was just interested in hearing about your nieces." Darcy debated whether to ask Gardiner about Williamson's revelation about Elizabeth's name. Did Gardiner know Mrs. Bennet had named Elizabeth for her lover's mother?

Gardiner nodded his head, a contemplative expression on his weary face. Hesitantly, he asked, "How did he seem to you, Darcy? Was he...well?"

Darcy heard Gardiners unspoken question: Was Williamson really dying? He took a deep breath, considering his words. "He appeared weak, but his color was better than it was last Saturday." Seeing Gardiner's hopeful expression, he added in a quiet voice, "I have no doubt that Williamson is a very sick man."

Gardiner nodded distractedly. "I see. Well, with his jaunt to the park today, perhaps he won't be up to seeing me today after all."

"Perhaps not. I am happy to accompany you whenever Williamson is available. Although I will be unavailable on Friday."

A spark of interest lit in Gardiner's eyes. "Ah, yes. My Marianne told me you're traveling to Longbourn to gain my brother Bennet's consent." He gave Darcy a look so reminiscent of Richard that he almost choked. "I think that is a very wise idea, Darcy. How did you convince Lizzy to let you go so soon?"

Darcy cleared his throat. "It was at Elizabeth's suggestion, Gardiner. Not mine."

"Indeed. And why the sudden change of heart, Darcy? As I recall, my niece was adamant that you not face Bennet alone. So what changed, I wonder?"

"She said she thought it would be prudent if I went sooner rather than later." Darcy could have kicked himself for speaking so candidly in front of Elizabeth's guardian. The last thing he needed was to raise his suspicions. They hadn't done anything wrong, exactly. He was always extremely careful when he expressed his love and devotion to Elizabeth, but he was finding it increasingly...difficult to maintain a semblance of control. He was grateful that Elizabeth had finally seen sense in allowing him to secure her hand as soon as possible.

Gardiner's brows shot up in surprise, then lowered in consternation as he watched the play of emotions on Darcy's face. He leaned forward, placing his clasped hands on the desk before him. His eyes narrowed, his countenance grave. "Do you have something you wish to tell me, Darcy?" he asked in a low, serious voice.

"No, Gardiner." Darcy kept his voice steady and his unwavering gaze fixed on the face of Elizabeth's guardian. He had nothing to hide.

"No? Look me in the eye, Darcy, and tell me that you have acted with complete propriety towards my niece _at all times_."

"I have treated _my betrothed_ with the utmost respect at all times, Gardiner." Darcy stated in a firm voice.

"That's not what I asked, Darcy."

"No, but it's what you meant, Gardiner." Darcy kept his gaze fixed on the man before him, refusing to concede. If the man thought he was going to divulge the private moments between him and his future wife, he was gravely mistaken. "You said just a moment ago that you knew me to be a trustworthy and honorable man. Were those just words, Gardiner? Or did you mean them?"

Gardiner stared at Darcy before sighing loudly. "Yes, of course I meant what I said, Darcy. But," he paused, piercing the younger man with his gaze. "Take my advice, Darcy. Be careful. It was not so long ago that I was in your situation, an engaged man desperately in love with the woman who had consented to be his. I know how easy it is to get caught up in your emotions." He straightened, keeping his gaze fixed on Darcy. "I just don't want you to do anything that you will later regret. Do you understand what I am saying, young man?"

"Yes, I do, Gardiner.

Gardiner nodded his head in a decisive manner. "Good. Now that said, I hope you don't think I am overstepping my bounds in speaking so openly. Lizzy is under my protection after all. And," Gardiner snorted, a wry smile on his face, "my brother Bennet would never have such a talk with his future son-in-law. But it needs to be said. I hope you understand, Darcy. And I meant no offence."

"None taken, Gardiner. I meant what I said; I would never treat Elizabeth in a disrespectful manner. I value her above all else."

"I know you do, Darcy," Gardiner said quietly. "Which is why I will be proud to call you 'nephew.' It is the one consolation in all this mess with Williamson: that my mistakes long ago have not prevented Lizzy's happiness with a man who sees her true worth. For that, I thank you."

Darcy nodded, relieved that Gardiner's interrogation was over.

Gardiner gave Darcy a pointed look. "That said, I think it is very wise that you are seeking Bennet's permission. The sooner you marry that dear girl, the better." Gardiner raised a finger, shaking it at Darcy. "And not just because I want her free from my sister's grasp, either." Gardiner leaned back in his chair, his weariness evident. He made a dismissing gesture with his hand. "Thank you, Darcy. I will let you know when I hear from Williamson."

Darcy stood, but didn't leave. "Gardiner, you need to speak with Elizabeth. She understands that you need time to come to terms with your decision all those years ago, but she needs you to know that she does not harbor any anger towards you. Will you talk with her?"

Gardiner stared at Darcy, his expression inscrutable. Finally, he sighed. "Yes, of course. Marianne has told me much the same thing, but I wanted to talk to her after I have made amends so she knows that I am truly sorry for what I did. I know she is not looking for my forgiveness, but I need it from her as much as I need it from Williamson. My actions hurt her, and for that I need to seek her forgiveness, but only after I have seen Williamson."

Darcy didn't ask if he was also going to ask Mrs. Bennet for forgiveness. In his opinion, that contemptible woman didn't warrant forgiveness from Gardiner and especially not from Elizabeth. He respected Elizabeth's decision and her need to forgive her mother for her own peace of mind, but she would likely reject any olive branch she offered. Bowing his head, Darcy said gratefully, "Thank you, Gardiner."

Darcy left Gardiner's study, his stride brisk as he made his way to the drawing room where his Elizabeth was waiting for him. She would be pleased with her uncle's decision to face Williamson. Despite Gardiner's faults, he was a good man. A man willing to face his mistakes was a man worthy of respect and esteem. A man Darcy would be proud to call, "uncle."

As he approached the drawing room door, he halted at the unusual sight before him, raising his brows in amusement. _What is the little minx up to now?_

~oOOo~

As Elizabeth neared the drawing room, she paused outside the partially open door, biting her lip in indecision. She could clearly hear her sister and the Colonel just inside the door. A quick peek into the room showed that they were sitting on the sofa closest to the partially open door. She was torn. She knew she should go inside and act as chaperone, but she wanted to give them privacy if the Colonel had intentions to declare himself. The door was open, so there was no chance of a compromise. Glancing down the hallway, Elizabeth made her decision. She would wait here to ensure their privacy. Hopefully the Colonel was intelligent enough to make use of the time alone with her sister.

_"...hope you were not distressed by Williamson's conversation..."_

Elizabeth instinctively leaned closer as she heard the low voice of Colonel Fitzwilliam, his tone gentle and solicitous. She smiled as she remembered his concerned expression as he had looked on her sister during their conversation with Mr. Williamson, realizing that he loved her sister. Was it wrong to give him an opportunity to declare his intentions?

_"No, but I am concerned for my sister."_

Dear, sweet Jane! Elizabeth smiled. No doubt her sister was thinking of how she could help her, what she could say to ease her distress. Don't think of me, Jane! Don't let this opportunity pass you by! Elizabeth willed her sister to focus on the Colonel and the fact that they were very much alone. She shifted uncomfortably. Well, almost alone.

_"Your solicitous concern for your sister does you credit, Miss Bennet."_

_"How could I not be concerned for my sister after such a revelation?"_

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. Do not spend this time talking about me! Don't waste this opportunity, Colonel! Elizabeth silently prayed.

_"Yes, I can imagine it came as quite a shock."_

Elizabeth huffed lightly. To her dismay, they proceeded to talk about Mr. Williamson and how badly they felt for him and his illness. Then the Colonel made a reference to her and her mother which caused Elizabeth to start in surprise. The Colonel was aware of her mother's disparagement of her? She was not sure how she felt about him knowing. She liked the Colonel immensely and would be pleased to call him "cousin" when she married Fitzwilliam. He had probably informed his cousin, and she trusted him wholeheartedly.

Elizabeth heard some shifting and her sister's quiet gasp. Elizabeth's heart stopped. What just happened? Did the Colonel move closer to Jane? Did he take her hand? Did he kiss her? Unconsciously, she moved closer to the open door, barely making out the edge of the sofa and her sister's white gown.

_"Williamson and your sister are not what I wish to be speaking about in this moment, Miss Bennet." He cleared his throat. "Miss Bennet...Jane."_

Elizabeth brought her hands to her mouth to prevent her from squealing in excitement. Was this it? Would he finally declare himself?

_"Yes, Colonel Fitzwilliam?"_

Elizabeth smiled widely, bouncing lightly on her toes at her sister's breathless response. Her heart was pounding in excitement. Finally, her sister would get the love she deserved.

Suddenly an arm snaked around her waist from behind, causing her to jump in surprise. A low voice whispered, "And what do you think you are doing, Elizabeth? Eavesdropping on your sister and my cousin?" Fitzwilliam's voice was amused, his warm breath tickling her ear.

Elizabeth gasped at his sudden closeness, her heart now pounding for an entirely different reason. She struggled in his tight embrace. "Wait, Fitzwilliam! Just one minute more," she whispered breathlessly as she leaned closer to the open door.

"Elizabeth." The admonishment in Fitzwilliam's voice caused her to blush.

He released her and without another word, walked into the drawing room before she could prevent it. She huffed in annoyance before following him. What bad timing Fitzwilliam had! If only...her thoughts were interrupted as she ran bodily into Fitzwilliam. She peered around his broad back to see what had caused him to stop so abruptly.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was glaring daggers at her betrothed, while poor Jane was staring intently at the clasped hands in her lap, her beautiful face a vivid red. She immediately noticed how closely they were seated on the rather large sofa.

"I told you!" hissed Elizabeth in a soft voice to Fitzwilliam's back. "We should have waited a few minutes longer!"

Darcy cleared his throat. "Forgive me, Cousin, Miss Bennet. I hope I was not interrupting?" His voice was laced with amusement and barely suppressed laughter.

Elizabeth's mouth dropped open. He did that on purpose! He was enjoying this! Her eyes narrowed, and she adopted Colonel Fitzwilliam's glare. Unfortunately, Fitzwilliam never saw it as it was directed at his rather impressive...ah, backside. She blushed hotly, redirecting her gaze further north.

Jane recovered her composure quickly although she spoke in a distinctly flustered voice. "Not at all, Mr. Darcy." She stood in a slightly less than graceful manner to ring for tea. Colonel Fitzwilliam quickly stood and followed her, his expression decidedly forlorn.

Elizabeth walked out from her place behind Fitzwilliam, shooting him a glare as she did so. As she passed him, he reached out to capture her arm, tucking it around his elbow. She attempted to free herself but was unsuccessful.

"No need for you to be angry, my love. I was not the one who was caught eavesdropping on a private conversation," Fitzwilliam whispered in her ear.

Elizabeth didn't think she could turn redder. Her face felt as if it were on fire. Truth be told, she was mortified. To be caught eavesdropping on her sister and the Colonel by Fitzwilliam? What had she been thinking? At the time, it seemed like a perfectly good idea, giving the Colonel and Jane time alone.

"You don't think they knew I was there, do you?" she responded in a low voice. She looked at her sister to determine her state of mind. Unsurprisingly, her sister's countenance was the picture of serene contentment as she talked with the Colonel. She hoped her sister didn't realize what she had been doing. She would be mortified if she knew Elizabeth had been listening unabashedly at the door, especially since the nature of their conversation was definitely meant to be private. How would she feel if someone had eavesdropped on her and Fitzwilliam? Her face paled at the thought.

"I don't believe so," Fitzwilliam replied, giving her an understanding smile. "Just what were you thinking? I would have thought you'd learned your lesson. Remember the last time you eavesdropped?"

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. Of course she remembered. She had heard Fitzwilliam make a disparaging comment about her. "You're right; I should not have listened. But I didn't wish to interrupt and I was so hoping..." Her voice trailed off as she glanced at the other couple, a hopeful expression on her face. Maybe he would still ask her despite their presence?

Darcy glanced down at Elizabeth, a small smile on his face. "I am sorry as well, Elizabeth. I admit; I interrupted on purpose. It was unkind of me, especially to your sister. I was only thinking of my cousin and how it would serve him right after changing his mind so often regarding his intentions towards your sister these past few weeks."

"Has he?" Elizabeth inquired, sitting down.

Darcy sat beside Elizabeth, unconsciously taking her hand in his. "Yes. He didn't wish to commit to her until he knew if he was going to be sent to the Iberian Peninsula."

"And is he ready to commit to my sister?" Elizabeth asked, her eyes alight with eager enthusiasm.

Darcy studied Elizabeth's bright countenance, mesmerized by the glow in her beautiful eyes. He smiled softly, bringing her hand to his lips. "Yes, he is ready."

Elizabeth smiled brilliantly. "Then, I won't give you a hard time for interrupting them. It is enough to know of his intentions towards my sister. I am so glad, Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth sighed happily. "Jane deserves such happiness. I hope your cousin realizes how lucky he is to be gaining such a treasure as my dearest sister."

"Well, my cousin and I are rather intelligent men, Elizabeth. We immediately recognized the worth of the Bennet ladies and acted accordingly," he said with a teasing smile. "Luckily, they also seem to be bright young women and deemed us worthy of their attentions."

Elizabeth laughed, pleased at seeing Fitzwilliam's more playful side. "Well, I still think we should contrive a way to give them some privacy." With a sly look, she added, "If only to save you from your cousin's wrath. I saw that look he gave you, Fitzwilliam. I would watch your back if I were you."

It was Darcy's turn to laugh. "I am not afraid of my cousin, Elizabeth. But, I would not be opposed to taking a turn about the garden." His gaze became intense as it bore into hers, his voice low and intimate as he said, "I believe we were interrupted ourselves earlier today. And I always like to finish what I've started."

Elizabeth flushed at his clear meaning. "Won't it appear a little odd if we decide to take a turn about the garden so soon after returning from walking in the park?"

"Not if I have something I wish to say that requires privacy," he responded in a low voice.

Elizabeth's brow lowered. "Indeed? Does it have to do with what my uncle wished to speak to you about?"

Darcy nodded. He didn't need complete privacy to tell her about her uncle's request, but he did feel badly about interrupting his cousin, especially since Richard had been thwarted twice today in achieving his desire: a formal courtship with Miss Bennet. He stood, holding out his hand for Elizabeth. In a loud voice, he asked, "Miss Elizabeth, would you accompany me to the garden? After the incessant rain these past three days, I find it abhorrent to keep in doors."

Elizabeth smiled, shaking her head at Fitzwilliam's subterfuge. "With pleasure, Mr. Darcy."

As they made their way towards the door, Simmons entered and announced the arrival of Mr. Bingley.

Elizabeth growled softly in exasperation as Fitzwilliam coughed to hide his amusement.

"Bingley always did have impeccable timing," Darcy whispered in an undertone as he moved to greet his friend.

Elizabeth greeted Mr. Bingley warmly. She really did like him despite his horrible sister. He was just not the right man for Jane. If Jane hadn't already met and fallen in love with the Colonel, she probably would have encouraged Jane to get to know Mr. Bingley better. She knew her sister was conflicted, not in who had engaged her affections, but in how to tell an unwanted suitor that she was not interested. As she watched Mr. Bingley greet her sister and Colonel Fitzwilliam, she couldn't help but notice that Mr. Bingley seemed unusually flustered today. His usual amiable and easy manners had been replaced with agitation that clearly indicated he was troubled about something. Could it be the presence of Colonel Fitzwilliam? A discreet glance in Mr. Bingley's direction showed that he was not unduly affected by the presence of his rival. In fact, his gaze kept returning to Fitzwilliam, his countenance anxious. She shared a perplexed look with her sister, who had also noticed his unusual behavior. She took the open place next to her sister on the sofa, Colonel Fitzwilliam on Jane's other side. Fitzwilliam took the chair closest to her, leaving Mr. Bingley to sit in the chair closet to the Colonel.

An awkward silence fell until a maid entered with the tea service. Jane jumped up, a look of relief on her face as she busied herself with serving the tea. Colonel Fitzwilliam frowned as Jane prepared Mr. Bingley's tea without asking him how he liked it. She immediately noticed her sister's pained expression, knowing exactly how she felt. She had been in a similar situation with two suitors vying for her attentions in this very room not too long ago. She sighed.

Hopefully, Mr. Bingley was an intelligent man and could discern where her sister's affections lay. Although, knowing her sister's modest and shy demeanor, she didn't place too much hope in that outcome. She realized, belatedly, that no one was saying anything. She glanced at Fitzwilliam, silently pleading for him to say something. But all she got from that infuriating gentleman were raised eyebrows and an amused smirk.

Surprisingly, Colonel Fitzwilliam began the conversation, introducing a topic that was agreeable to everyone. Elizabeth didn't miss the grateful look Jane directed towards the Colonel, nor the wink he directed at her sister in response. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief. With any luck, Mr. Bingley would leave after a half hour, and she and Fitzwilliam could retreat to the garden and leave the Colonel free to declare himself to Jane. With that happy thought, Elizabeth was able to enjoy Mr. Bingley's company with equanimity and forbearance.

Their easy conversation continued until Mr. Bingley turned to Colonel Fitzwilliam and said, bluntly, "I confess I am surprised to see you here, Colonel Fitzwilliam."

Elizabeth paused with her cup halfway to her mouth, her eyes widening in surprise at Mr Bingley's uncharitable remark. Unfortunately for Jane, she had just taken a swallow of tea and choked slightly, coughing lightly to clear to throat.

Colonel Fitzwilliam placed his cup carefully down on the table before addressing the unwanted suitor. "Oh, and why is that, Bingley?" His tone was light and harmless, but his gaze was hard and unrelenting.

Oh dear, thought Elizabeth. She glanced at Mr. Bingley, confused by his indecorous statement. What could he mean by it? Mr. Bingley was acting quite peculiarly. She glanced uneasily at Fitzwilliam, relieved that he seemed to be concerned with his friend's behavior as well. When she met his gaze, he shook his head slightly.

Mr. Bingley must have seen something in the Colonel's gaze because he flushed an unbecoming shade of red. "Ah, I was just not aware that you were well acquainted with the Miss Bennets, Colonel. That is all."

Colonel Fitzwilliam raised his brows, his expression slightly mocking. "Indeed? I don't understand why you are so surprised, Bingley. My cousin is engaged to Miss Elizabeth, is he not?"

Mr. Bingley stammered, "Yes, of course."

"And with my cousin's close connection to Miss Elizabeth, an _intelligent _man would naturally assume that I would also be well acquainted with his betrothed and her family, especially since Darcy and I are as close as brothers, correct?"

"You are correct, Colonel. Forgive me; I meant no offense."

"Of course you didn't, Bingley," the Colonel responded in a placating manner. "Because you are not an unintelligent man, now are you?"

Mr. Bingley shifted uneasily in his chair, his face a bright red. He suddenly stood, bowing in her and Jane's direction, his gaze on the floor. "It's been a pleasure, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth. I will bid you both a good day." He raised his eyes to gaze longingly at Jane only to be met with the top of her bowed head.

Elizabeth smiled kindly at Mr. Bingley, not wishing to cause him any further embarrassment. "Thank you for visiting, Mr. Bingley."

"I'll walk you out, Bingley," Darcy responded, his expression firm.

Elizabeth watched, her brow lowered in bewilderment as her betrothed escorted Mr. Bingley out of the drawing room. What just happened? She shook her head in confusion at Mr. Bingley's uncharacteristic behavior. The only reason she could logically conclude was that he had detected the Colonel's interest in her sister and thought to establish his claim on her. Hopefully, Fitzwilliam would glean some information from his friend regarding the reason for his unusual behavior. She glanced at her sister to ascertain her mood. Judging by the vivid blush on her face, her poor sister was mortified.

"I apologize for my behavior, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth," the Colonel said in a contrite voice.

Elizabeth waited for a moment to see if her sister would speak. When she didn't, she quickly responded, "Not at all, Colonel. I cannot imagine why Mr. Bingley said such a thing to you."

"Can you not?" The Colonel responded with a pointed look in her sister's direction.

Elizabeth smiled at her sister. She nudged Jane discreetly with her foot. Say something, Jane! she thought. Why was her sister so quiet? Perhaps being with both Mr. Bingley and the Colonel was too much.

Jane looked up at her sister's gentle nudge but was unable to meet the Colonel's gaze. Abruptly, she stood and with a hurried, "Forgive me, Colonel, Lizzy, but I am feeling unwell. If you'll excuse me."

Before Elizabeth could stop her, Jane rushed from the room. She stared after her sister in surprise and concern. She stood to follow, but then remembered their guest. Sitting back down, she turned to the Colonel. His expression was despondent as he gazed at the direction her sister had fled.

Elizabeth sighed. "I am afraid we Bennet girls do not react well when there are competing males vying for our attentions."

Colonel Fitzwilliam tore his gaze from the door to smile wryly. "No, I suppose not." He lowered his head, his expression dejected. "This is my fault. I should not have reacted in such a way. I knew what Bingley was about. I should have handled that better."

Elizabeth raised a brow and responded with a teasing smile, "Oh, I don't know about that, Colonel. You handled yourself very well, I thought. It was he who was at fault, baiting you as he did." She shook her head. "I hope that Fitzwilliam will be able to discover why Mr. Bingley was acting so oddly."

"You noticed as well?" The Colonel replied, his expression puzzled. "I don't think I have ever seen Bingley so out of sorts." He paused, huffing a laugh. "Except when dealing with his sisters."

Elizabeth laughed. "Poor Mr. Bingley, to have such a horrid sister. I cannot help but feel sorry for him."

"Don't be, Miss Elizabeth," he responded tersely. "Bingley has allowed his sisters to bully him for years. He needs to grow a backbone and stand up to them. He is the head of the family. It's time he started acting like it."

Elizabeth stared at the Colonel. She couldn't recall ever hearing him speak in such a derisive tone before. Before Elizabeth could respond, Fitzwilliam entered, a fearsome scowl marring his handsome face.

"Ah, there's the Darcy I know and love!" the Colonel quipped. "I must say I've missed that formidable face."

Darcy glowered at his cousin. "Not now, Richard. Please."

Elizabeth looked at Fitzwilliam with concern as he sat next to her. "Is Mr. Bingley well?"

Darcy sighed heavily, shaking his head. "I am not sure. He is obviously upset about something, but he would not say why. He asked me to meet him tomorrow at White's." He gave Elizabeth an apologetic look. "I told him I would meet him at noon. So I will miss seeing you at luncheon tomorrow at Darcy House-although I am sure that Georgiana will be ecstatic to have you all to herself."

Elizabeth smiled. She was looking forward to spending some more time with her future sister. Although she would miss seeing Fitzwilliam, perhaps it was for the best. He did have a way of monopolizing all her attention when he was present. "I understand, Fitzwilliam. Don't worry about us. I know that your sister is looking forward to showing me the rest of your home."

"_Our_ home, Elizabeth," Darcy corrected with a warm smile as he took her hand to bestow a gentle kiss. "I had hoped to be there when you saw the mistress' chambers for the first time. I will try to hurry my meeting with Bingley so that I can be there."

A pointed clearing of a throat forestalled Elizabeth's response. She turned to the Colonel with a slight blush. She had forgotten they were not alone...again.

The Colonel only laughed as he stood. "Well, as much as I am enjoying your lovers' tête-à-tête, I believe I should take my leave." He turned to Elizabeth and bowed. He hesitated slightly before saying, "Please give my best to your sister, Miss Elizabeth. I hope to see her tomorrow to apologize for my behavior. It was not my intention to make her uncomfortable."

Elizabeth stood and smiled warmly at her future cousin. "I will, Colonel. And if I may say, I don't think your behavior caused my sister's distress." She had a fairly good idea what had caused her sister to leave so abruptly, and it was not due to the Colonel's behavior towards Mr. Bingley. She was eager to talk to her to determine if her assumptions were correct.

The Colonel left with a wink directed at his cousin. As soon as they were alone, Fitzwilliam wasted no time in gathering Elizabeth into his arms although his gaze was directed at the door where his cousin had just exited. "I'll have to thank my cousin for his timely departure. Although I really don't deserve it as I purposefully interrupted him and your sister."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Fitzwilliam, I believe there is better use for your mouth at this particular moment, don't you?"

Darcy's gaze shot to hers before bestowing a heart-stopping smile. He kissed her forehead gently before lowering his head to whisper in her ear, "Is that what you meant, my love?"

Elizabeth shivered as his breath caressed the side of her face. She closed her eyes and smiled, grateful for the return of his lighthearted mood. "Hmmm, very nice, but not exactly what I had in mind, Fitzwilliam."

With a smile, he pressed a soft kiss to her temple. "How about that?"

"Closer, but...no."

Darcy chuckled softly as he pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot below her ear, delighting in her soft gasp. "There?" he whispered softly.

"Mmmmmm...better," she answered, her voice decidedly unsteady.

Darcy raised his head to gaze at his beloved. Her face was slightly flushed, her eyes filled with longing and expectation. He cupped her beautiful face in his hands, his thumbs gently caressing her soft face. "You are so lovely, my Elizabeth," he whispered before pressing his lips to hers. He smiled against her mouth as she sighed in contentment, her small hands sliding up his chest to encircle his neck. As soon as her slender fingers buried in his hair, he surrendered with a groan, deepening their kiss.

With extreme reluctance and increasing difficulty, he broke their kiss, leaning his forehead to rest against hers as they both caught their breath. He lightly ran his hands down her back before placing them safely on her waist. Placing a soft kiss on her forehead, he led her back to the couch. He still needed to tell her about his meeting with her uncle.

Blushing, Elizabeth smiled happily at Fitzwilliam and said impertinently, "Now, _that_ is what I meant, Fitzwilliam. I am pleased that you are such an intelligent man to have so quickly caught my meaning."

Darcy threw back his head and laughed in pure delight. Each day he was more in awe of Elizabeth's resilience and strong spirit. Despite what she had learned from Williamson today which he knew had distressed her, she was able to put it aside and be herself. She was a remarkable woman, and she was his. He truly was a blessed man. He smiled in contentment. Friday couldn't come soon enough.

A/N: Curse you Darcy! *shakes fist at the sky* The Colonel was so, so close! Three times the poor Colonel was thwarted, but I have to agree with Darcy-he deserved it. (to some extent) My true sympathy lies with poor Jane. You'll get some more insight into what she is thinking next chapter. And Bingley! What is up with him?

So, I have outlined the chapters leading up Jane/Elizabeth returning to Longbourn and there are...5 more chapters, possibly 6 (I did mention that I tend to be rather detailed in my writing).

Thank you again for all your lovely reviews and your continued support. I know I say this every time, but I truly mean it - you are all AWESOME!

Now to all you silent/anonymous readers...what do you think?

Much love,

MAH


	35. Chapter 35

Thank you to my beta, CassandraLowry - you're amazing!

Chapter 34

Elizabeth was extremely pleased when Fitzwilliam informed her that her uncle was willing to seek Mr. Williamson's forgiveness and surprised that he wished Fitzwilliam to accompany him. But upon further reflection, she realized that she should not be. Her betrothed was a gentleman who inspired confidence, and she knew that her uncle respected him greatly. She was proud of her uncle for facing Mr. Williamson, knowing it would not be easy for him. As much as she wished the meeting between them would take place soon so she could finally talk with her uncle, she agreed with Fitzwilliam that it was unlikely to occur that day. Elizabeth had noticed how weak Mr. Williamson had become in the thirty minutes during which they had talked with him.

Simmons entered the drawing room less than an hour later with a message that her uncle was ready and waiting for Fitzwilliam. She turned to her betrothed in astonishment.

"I did not think Mr. Williamson would be ready to see my uncle so soon."

Darcy stood, holding out his hand to assist Elizabeth. "Nor I. He must desire closure as well," he responded as he escorted her from the drawing room.

Upon seeing her uncle in the foyer, Elizabeth froze, her expression one of concern and shock at his altered appearance. She looked up at Fitzwilliam and said, "Perhaps you should just go, Fitzwilliam. I do not wish to delay your departure. I can wait a little longer to speak with him."

Darcy smiled, leaning down to kiss her temple softly. "We should not be long. I will see you soon, my love."

Elizabeth watched from the shadows as Fitzwilliam prepared to leave, her uncle waiting patiently for him to be ready. As they exited the house, Elizabeth offered a silent prayer that the meeting would go well and that her uncle would have the courage he needed to speak to Mr. Williamson.

As soon as they were gone, Elizabeth wasted no time in seeking out her sister. Unfortunately, Jane was not in any of her usual places. Jane would not hide from her, would she? She shook her head, berating herself for thinking such an ungenerous thought. Elizabeth found her feet leading to the one place she would go if she were upset: the garden.

She found Jane sitting on the bench under the oak tree, gazing off into the distance with a disconsolate expression on her lovely face. It was such an unusual sight to see her sister thus that it made Elizabeth pause and gather her emotions before facing her sister. The last thing she wished was to say something indelicate that would harm her sister's tender sensibilities.

"Jane?" Elizabeth called out hesitantly.

Jane turned upon hearing her sister's soft voice and smiled, smoothing her dress with a trembling hand. Elizabeth immediately noticed her smile didn't reach her sister's beautiful blue eyes.

"Lizzy," Jane said softly. "I wondered when you would find me."

Elizabeth sat beside her sister, knowing her sister's statement was not one of censure but inevitability. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

Jane sighed, looking down at her clasped hands. "I apologize for my rude behavior. I suppose Colonel Fitzwilliam has left?" she asked, her tone resigned.

Elizabeth nodded. "He was worried that his behavior towards Mr. Bingley caused your distress."

Jane turned to her sister and exclaimed, "But that's not why I left, Lizzy!"

Elizabeth smiled knowingly at her sister. "I know, Jane. And I told the Colonel that as well. He still insisted on returning tomorrow and offering you his apology."

When Jane didn't respond, Elizabeth chewed her lip. She didn't want to push Jane to confide in her if she was not ready to speak of what was troubling her heart, but she also couldn't leave her sister in such a state. "Will you not tell me what is troubling you, Jane?"

Jane shook her head, wrapping her arms around her waist. "It is silly, Lizzy, truly. I am being petty and ungenerous. It is not even worth mentioning."

Elizabeth sighed softly, unwilling to give up. "Jane, it is not 'nothing.' Please, talk to me." Elizabeth gently turned her sister to face her so she could see her face. She studied Jane's downcast countenance, smoothing back a few tendrils of hair that had escaped her sister's chignon. When Jane didn't answer, Elizabeth took her sister's hand in hers, squeezing gently. She took a deep breath before voicing what she felt was truly bothering her sister.

"You are frustrated because your own love affair has not gone as smoothly or as easily as mine," Elizabeth stated softly.

Jane's head shot up, and she stared at her with wide eyes, her expression panicked. "Lizzy, I...that is, please don't..." Jane closed her eyes, pressing a hand to her forehead.

Elizabeth smiled softly. "Jane, I know you better than you think I do. Although you have not expressed your frustrations, I have seen how the Colonel's indecisiveness has left you upset and confused." She reached to pull Jane's hand away from her eyes. "Why have you not said anything until now?"

Jane looked at her sister in astonishment. "How could I, Lizzy? The last thing I wanted was for you to think that I resented your good fortune...which couldn't be further from the truth." She reached out and grasped Elizabeth's hand. "No one deserves such happiness more than you do Lizzy. Please know that I am so happy that you found such a good man who loves you as you deserve to be loved."

"Of course I know that, Jane! But that doesn't mean that you cannot wish for a similar happiness. And you have found it! The Colonel loves you, and if he hadn't been interrupted today, he would have asked you to marry him, or at least asked to court you." With a playful smile, she added, "I have it on very good authority that the Colonel's intentions are leading in that direction."

Jane's countenance brightened at her sister's reassurances. "I know, Lizzy. I truly thought today was the day when he would finally declare himself." She straightened, her expression incredulous. "Not once, but three times he was prevented from declaring himself, Lizzy! Three times!"

Elizabeth gazed at her sister in surprise. Poor Jane! If she had known, she would have tried harder to prevent Fitzwilliam from interrupting them in the drawing room. "I know the Colonel was going to ask in the drawing room before Fitzwilliam and I entered, but when were the other two times?"

Jane stared at her sister. "How do you know he was going to ask me in the drawing room?" Seeing her sister's red face and guilty expression, she exclaimed, "Lizzy!"

Elizabeth held out her hands in supplication, her expression contrite. "Forgive me, Jane. I didn't wish to interrupt your conversation."

"So you eavesdropped?" Jane was incredulous although she knew she should not be so surprised. It was Elizabeth, after all. Her curiosity always got the better of her.

"No! Well, yes...but, only because I didn't wish to leave you in a compromising situation." Elizabeth bit her lip as she glanced at her sister's skeptical expression.

Jane shook her head, smiling despite her sister's impropriety. "Well, you weren't a very good sentry, sister dear. Mr. Darcy still interrupted us."

Elizabeth huffed. "I tried to stop him, Jane. But he was determined." With a sly look at her sister, she asked, "What did the good Colonel do that made you gasp?"

Jane blushed becomingly. Clearing her throat, she stammered, "Richard took my hand."

Elizabeth arched her brow, her eyes dancing with delight at her sister's slip of the tongue. "_Richard_?" she teased, watching in amusement as her sister's blush deepened.

"In my thoughts he is always 'Richard,'" Jane admitted sheepishly.

"Of course he is! I don't mean to tease, Jane. I am just delighted that you have found such a good man as the Colonel. I will be proud to call him 'brother.'" Still wanting to find out the other two times the Colonel was thwarted in declaring himself, Elizabeth asked her sister again.

Jane leaned back on the bench, huffing in exasperation. "The first time was in the park. Richard directed us off the main pathway, and I thought for sure it was to declare himself. He seemed so nervous but resolute; it was quite endearing, actually. But before he could utter a word, we came to the clearing and found Mr. Williamson." Her eyes widened, and she sat up and said hurriedly, "Not that I regret seeing Mr. Williamson. Indeed, I am very grateful that I had the opportunity to meet him."

Elizabeth nodded in understanding. So that was why the Colonel had looked so despondent during their conversation with Mr. Williamson. Her mind wandered to her uncle and Fitzwilliam's meeting with that gentleman at that very moment, sending another silent prayer that it went well. "And the third time?"

"Just before Mr. Bingley's arrival."

Elizabeth's brows shot up. Well, well, the Colonel was serious. To be willing to ask her sister even though they were not alone was very impressive...and promising.

"After Mr. Bingley's arrival interrupted Richard again, I just couldn't stand it anymore. It just seemed so unfair!" In a quieter voice, Jane whispered her unspoken fears for the first time. "Maybe it is just not meant to be."

Elizabeth stared at her sister. "Jane! How can you say that? Of course it is." She paused as a thought entered her mind. "Jane, you do love the Colonel, don't you? You haven't just convinced yourself that you love him because you want to be in love?"

"Yes. I do love him," Jane said with conviction. "In fact, I didn't realize how much until I met Mr. Bingley."

"What do you mean?"

Jane paused briefly, her expression contemplative. "Do you remember that conversation we had several weeks ago when you asked me what I wanted in a man?" At her sister's nod, she continued, "Mr. Bingley is just the sort of man I would have seen myself falling in love with. He is amiable, charming, intelligent, generous, and handsome. Indeed, he is everything I thought I wanted in my future spouse. But compared to Richard..." Jane's voice trailed off, and she shrugged, "he comes up wanting. I have no doubt that I would have had a very good life with a man like Mr. Bingley as my husband. But now that I know what I _could _have with Richard, I find that I will not be happy, truly happy, with anyone but him."

Elizabeth impulsively hugged her sister. "Oh, Jane! He truly is the best of men. Well, after my dear Fitzwilliam, of course."

Jane laughed. "Oh, Lizzy! Will you forgive me for my ungenerous thoughts?"

"Only if you forgive me my eavesdropping." At Jane's smile and soft agreement, Elizabeth continued, "And you are right; my relationship with Fitzwilliam has been practically perfect."

"And quick! My goodness, Lizzy! You met Mr. Darcy one month ago, and already you are engaged."

"Thirty-five days, Jane," Elizabeth corrected. Seeing Jane's confused expression, she clarified, "I saw Fitzwilliam for the first time only thirty-five days ago."

Jane shook her head in wonder. "Isn't it amazing, Lizzy? How everything has fallen into place as if it were meant to be."

Elizabeth smiled as she thought of Fitzwilliam and their brief but intense courtship. She knew her sister was right; it was all meant to be. Everything that had happened confirmed this one fact: they were meant to be together. As she thought this, a feeling of peace and _rightness_ swept over her. She sighed contentedly. Suddenly her happy thoughts were replaced with an image of Fitzwilliam's anguished countenance as he told her earlier that day about his nightmares of them being separated. A sharp pain pierced her heart so unexpectedly it left her breathless. Quickly pushing those disturbing thoughts away, she focused on her sister.

"You know, Jane," Elizabeth began contemplatively. "You only met the Colonel one month ago as well." At her sister's surprised expression, Elizabeth smiled triumphantly. "And look where you are now. He is on the verge of declaring himself and his intentions which are to make you Mrs. Fitzwilliam. So, although you are not yet engaged, I have no doubt that you very soon will be."

Jane smiled happily, a blush suffusing her face. "You're right, of course." With a teasing smile, she added, "Your impatience must be affecting me."

Elizabeth only laughed, grateful that her sister's despondent spirit seemed to have lifted. She knew that Colonel Fitzwilliam was the right man for her sister. Jane needed someone of strong mind and strong will to complement her more shy and reserved nature. They were the perfect balance. Jane deserved a man with a true and constant heart. Despite the Colonel's vacillating behavior towards her sister, she knew it was for a very good reason. She knew instinctively that even if the Colonel had been sent to the continent, he would not have left without declaring himself. They were meant to be as surely as she and Fitzwilliam. She hoped that the good Colonel would find an opportunity to ask her sister again soon, not only for her sister's happiness and peace of mind but also to show Mr. Bingley that Jane's affections lay elsewhere. Her sister spoke, interrupting her musings.

"...Mr. Bingley is well. I cannot imagine what could be wrong."

Elizabeth raised a brow. This was why poor Mr. Bingley kept paying court to Jane. She was incapable of showing anything but kind concern to all, even unwanted suitors. She sighed. "Fitzwilliam is meeting Mr. Bingley tomorrow. But if I had to venture a guess it has something to do with his sister." She gave Jane a meaningful look.

Jane shook her head, a concerned expression on her face. "I cannot help but feel sorry for Mr. Bingley for having such a horrid sister."

"Well, at least you won't have to worry about Colonel Fitzwilliam's relations. Lord and Lady Matlock adore you." With a teasing gleam in her eye, Elizabeth added, "But then everyone adores you, Jane."

Jane smiled and sighed, casting an exasperated and long suffering look at her dearest sister. She stood and smoothed the wrinkles from her white muslin gown. As Elizabeth stood, Jane linked her arm with her sister's and began walking back to the house. Elizabeth told her sister about their uncle and Fitzwilliam's meeting with Mr. Williamson.

Jane smiled. "I am glad, Lizzy. Not only for our uncle's sake, but Mr. Williamson's as well."

Elizabeth nodded her head in agreement, her mind wandering again to the meeting between the three gentlemen. She sighed. "I just hope that it goes well. Uncle and Mr. Williamson have suffered enough these past twenty-five years."

Jane gave her sister a reassuring smile. "I am sure it will. Your Mr. Darcy's presence will make it easier for both of them, I imagine. I am not at all surprised that our uncle asked Mr. Darcy to accompany him."

"Nor I. Fitzwilliam will be the perfect mediator."

They entered the drawing room to see their aunt and Lady Eleanor sitting companionably on the sofa. Both pairs of eyes lit up with pleasure as they saw the two young women.

"There you two are! Come, we have news!" Mrs. Gardiner gestured for her two nieces to sit, her countenance unusually animated.

Jane and Elizabeth shared an amused look before sitting. Knowing their aunt, it involved shopping, gossip, or a social outing. Judging by the almost manic gleam in her eye, Elizabeth determined it must be all three. She smiled. This would be the perfect distraction from her thoughts and help pass the time before her uncle and Fitzwilliam returned.

Lady Eleanor wasted no time in turning to Elizabeth and grasping her hand in a firm grip, said warmly, "I know it is not yet official, my dear. But I wanted to tell you how pleased Lord Matlock and I are with your engagement to our nephew."

Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you, Lady Eleanor." Her eyes sparkling with a playful gleam, she added, "I admit to being very pleased myself."

Her aunt and Lady Eleanor laughed. Aunt Gardiner patted Elizabeth's knee. "As you should be, Lizzy. The sooner we make this all official, the better." She gave her niece a knowing look. "I was telling Eleanor how happy I was that you had both come to your senses and decided to ask for your father's permission sooner. Now you can remain here until you are married, and there will be no need for you to return to Longbourn." She smiled brightly at her niece.

She had already spoken to her husband about having Elizabeth stay with them until her marriage. She knew that once Fanny learned that Elizabeth was to marry Mr. Darcy, it would be very unpleasant for her in that household. The sooner Elizabeth was removed from that woman's influence, the better. She knew that they wanted a short engagement, and judging by the interactions she had witnessed between them since their courtship, she thought it very wise for them to marry soon.

Elizabeth looked at her aunt in grateful understanding before shifting her gaze to Lady Eleanor. She knew that her aunt would not have told her friend about how things stood between her and her mother. Carefully, she responded, "Thank you, Aunt, for your kind offer, but I will return to Longbourn with Jane as planned."

Aunt Gardiner studied her niece, and seeing her resolute expression, sighed softly before saying with enthusiasm, "Then we don't have much time to shop for your trousseau!" With that statement, the next thirty minutes were spent discussing all that Elizabeth would need for her marriage to a gentleman of Mr. Darcy's station.

Elizabeth started to feel overwhelmed the longer her aunt and Lady Eleanor talked about all that she needed. Surely they were exaggerating? The sheer number of gowns alone was staggering, not to mention all the other _accoutrements_ that were required. The idea of spending not hours, but _days_ at Madame Cécile's being fitted for an exorbitant number of gowns caused her head to ache. She looked at Jane with an expression akin to horror, but her dear sister only laughed.

"Lizzy, you cannot be surprised. You must know that being a wife, especially to one of Mr. Darcy's station, is much different. Your status will be changed overnight, and your apparel must reflect that."

"I understand that, Jane. I just didn't realize there would be so...much." She looked at her aunt and Lady Eleanor beseechingly. "Is this all really necessary?"

Lady Eleanor gave Elizabeth an understanding smile. "It is rather overwhelming, is it not? I remember how astounded I was when I shopped for my trousseau. I quickly learned that being the daughter of a marquess was nothing compared to becoming the wife of an earl. I had nightmares for weeks of being smothered with rich, brocaded gowns or of wearing nothing at all!"

"Not helping, Eleanor!" Mrs. Gardiner cried as she saw Elizabeth's eyes widen with alarm. She gave her distressed niece a reassuring smile. Clearing her throat, her gaze turned calculating. "If you were to remain in London for the entirety of your engagement, we could spread the shopping out over the next several weeks instead of merely ten days."

Elizabeth raised a brow, shaking her head at her aunt's ill-conceived ploy to persuade her to remain in London. But she couldn't fault her aunt for her deviousness, for she knew that it stemmed from her aunt's worry and love for her. Truth be told, Elizabeth was dreading the moment when her mother realized that Fitzwilliam wished to marry her and not Jane. At the thought of her mother's ire, Elizabeth began to reconsider her need to return home before she married. She gave herself a mental shake.

No. She needed to return home and face her mother. She was not the same young woman who had come to London a mere thirty-five days ago. She knew she was different, more self-assured and confident. Fitzwilliam's love and acceptance had begun to transform her, removing the darkness and bitterness in her soul that she had carried for so long. Every letter that Fitzwilliam wrote to her, every tender gaze and loving caress replaced the lies her mother had spouted from her acerbic tongue since Elizabeth had come of age that she was unworthy of any man's love and esteem. Fitzwilliam was the embodiment of everything her mother said she was unworthy of. And he desired and wanted _her_. Her mother was _wrong._ Elizabeth felt her heart soar at this thought, knowing it was true.

Knowing her mother's past history had given her a glimpse into her mother's heart. Her mother was suffering, and for whatever reason, she took her suffering out on her second eldest daughter. She needed to understand _why_, and she couldn't unless she returned home. If she didn't confront her mother now, she feared that she never would, and thus the scar on her heart would remain an open wound. That was unacceptable. Forgiveness was the only way to completely remove the taint of her mother's disdain. For this reason, she would return home.

Her expression resolute, she repeated her earlier sentiment, "I will return home with Jane, Aunt."

Aunt Gardiner sighed, knowing a lost cause when she saw one. She understood even if she didn't agree with her niece's decision. She had been astounded when Edward had informed her that Elizabeth wished to forgive her mother. In her opinion, that woman didn't deserve such a gift. "Very well, Lizzy. I will say no more about it." Deciding a change of subject was needed, she turned to her oldest and dearest friend and said, "Do you want to tell the girls or should I?"

Elizabeth caught the mischievous gleam in her aunt's eye and sighed with relief, grateful her aunt had dropped the subject. They had talked about shopping; now it was to be either gossip or a social event of the season. "Tell us what?"

Aunt Gardiner shared a knowing look with Lady Eleanor before turning to her nieces. "I should not be so pleased with this particular bit of news, but I cannot find it in my heart to care too much. She brought it on herself after all."

Elizabeth immediately realized to whom her aunt was referring: Miss Bingley. She looked at her sister to determine if she had deduced the nature of their aunt's news. Jane was gazing at their aunt with an expression of polite interest but not of understanding.

"The unfortunate Miss Bingley has been effectively barred from the higher levels of society. Lady Worthington wasted no time in relaying to all and sundry that Miss Bingley had insulted a friend of hers and Lady Eleanor's." Mrs. Gardiner shook her head, a disgusted look on her face. "Apparently she was turned away last night from Lord Waverly's ball." She leaned in and whispered, "She made it worse by not leaving quietly. Made quite a spectacle of herself, in fact. She even shouted that she was a particular friend of Mr. Darcy, and that when he heard how she had been treated, he would be outraged."

Elizabeth's mouth dropped open in astonishment. "The woman must be completely mad! What self-respecting woman shouts out a gentleman's name in such a way?" Her expression changed to one of horror. "Good heavens! You don't think the _ton_ believes her, do you? Why, it could be construed that their relationship is...is..." Elizabeth paled at the implications of Miss Bingley's outburst. No wonder Mr. Bingley was so out of sorts this afternoon! His sister had practically shouted that his friend, _her _Fitzwilliam, was involved with his sister in an improper way.

Seeing Elizabeth's anxiety, Lady Eleanor was quick to reassure her future niece. "No, my dear. Please don't be unduly alarmed. Lady Worthington is very effective and very thorough. Her good opinion once lost is lost forever. (1) Losing Lady Worthington's good opinion is tantamount to losing society's favor which was why she was turned away from Lord Waverly's without a second thought. That is what happens when you cross Lady Worthington and why she is respected as much as she is feared. Miss Bingley made a gross miscalculation by insulting you at Darcy's birthday dinner, one that she has paid for most dearly."

Elizabeth was speechless. She never imagined that the consequences for Miss Bingley insulting her would be so dire. She knew that Fitzwilliam had broken all connection with her, but this! Despite her horrid behavior toward Elizabeth, she couldn't help but feel that this was too much, too high a price to pay for moment of jealous spite.

Knowing her niece, Mrs. Gardiner said, "Don't you dare feel sorry for her, Lizzy! She brought this on herself. Such a one as Miss Bingley does not deserve to be welcomed into polite society. In my opinion, it is long overdue."

Elizabeth was quiet as she contemplated her aunt's words. She looked at Jane who had been strangely silent. Unsurprisingly, Jane was distraught, her eyes full of barely concealed regret.

"This is my fault," Jane whispered. "If I hadn't behaved so horribly to her and thrown my glass of ratafia in her face, this could have all been cleared up." Jane turned anguished eyes to her sister.

Dear Jane. Elizabeth huffed a laugh, sharing a look with her aunt. "If I am not allowed to feel sorry for Miss Bingley, then you are definitely not allowed to blame yourself. She is culpable for her own actions. As much as I believe the consequence is rather harsh, it is done. She has no one to blame but herself."

Jane looked away, her expression conflicted.

Lady Eleanor cleared her throat. "I do feel badly for Mr. Bingley. Since he was his sister's escort to the ball, he had to leave to take her home. He didn't return."

"He was not banned from the ball, was he?" Elizabeth cried.

"No, not exactly. But if he wishes to remain in polite society, he will have to distance himself from his sister," Lady Eleanor explained. "This is why I feel badly for him. He must choose: society or his sister."

"That seems so unfair!" Jane exclaimed. "Punish an entire family for one person's actions?"

"It is unfair, Jane. But that is the way of the world. My father had to disinherit me when I married your uncle or lose his standing in society," Mrs. Gardiner explained. "Even with the support of my dear friend here, I am still only tolerated at best. If Edward had not been so successful in his business endeavors, we would not have been as accepted as we have been even with the support of the Earl and Countess of Matlock."

Elizabeth felt ill. This is what she would be entering into with her marriage to Fitzwilliam: a society full of hypocrites who valued status and position over familial ties and friendship. It disgusted her.

"Well! Enough of that! Let's talk of more pleasant things, shall we?"

Elizabeth smiled at her aunt, grateful for her boundless enthusiasm. Two predictable conversation topics had been discussed: shopping and the latest gossip. The only unmentioned topic that remained was an upcoming society event. Her aunt didn't disappoint.

"You will never guess who is giving a ball!"

Elizabeth couldn't suppress her mirth. "I cannot imagine, Aunt. Please tell us." The only ball she had attended thus far had been Sir Reginald Lynton's ball during her first week in London, the event that changed her life forever and brought Fitzwilliam into her life. She hadn't even thought about attending any other balls or had cause to feel she had been missing out on experiencing the "delights of the season" as her aunt so aptly said upon their arrival. Judging by her aunt's excitement, she would be expected to attend this ball. She felt a thrill of anticipation at the thought of finally dancing with Fitzwilliam.

"Marianne, I believe she wishes to tell the girls herself at tea on Friday," Lady Eleanor said with a slight frown, her stern expression belied by the twinkle in her eyes.

Mrs. Gardiner waved her hand dismissively at her dearest friend. "Nonsense! Lady Worthington will not mind a bit."

"Lady Worthington is giving a ball?" Elizabeth asked, her excitement matching her aunt's. "When did this come about? When is it?" Elizabeth hoped she would be able to attend before she returned to Longbourn. It was still the beginning of the season, so it was unlikely that the ball would be sooner than a month away. She felt a slight feeling of disappointment at the thought of missing it.

"Yes, she is. It will be held a week from today." Her aunt beamed at her nieces. "Isn't that wonderful? Lady Worthington hasn't hosted a ball in years. That she is giving one now and at such a time is clear: she is putting her full support behind you and Mr. Darcy. I think she is even hoping your engagement will be announced at her ball."

"A week? How is that possible?" Jane asked incredulously.

Lady Eleanor laughed. "Only Sophie Newton could do it. No other society matron would dare attempt it; not even the patronesses of Almack's would be so audacious. She just decided today, and already everyone is hoping to be invited."

"Why? What is so special about her giving a ball?" Elizabeth asked. The idea of announcing her engagement publicly sent a wave of anxiety mingled with anticipation through her. The idea of being publicly claimed by Fitzwilliam was extremely desirable, but given her opinion of society in general, she had no wish to be the cause of gossip. She knew Fitzwilliam would hate it.

"The last time she gave a ball was...let's see..." Lady Eleanor turned to Mrs. Gardiner. "When was it, Marianne? Ten years ago?"

Mrs. Gardiner nodded. "Yes, it was upon the occasion of that scandal involving the young Countess of Wiltshire."

At her nieces' confused expression, Mrs. Gardiner explained, "Lady Worthington stood up for the young countess by giving a ball, showing society that she did not believe a word of it, and neither should they."

Elizabeth looked blankly at her aunt. "What does this have to do with the reason she is giving a ball now?"

Lady Eleanor smiled. "Is it not obvious? She is giving the ball to dispel any rumors that will circulate about Darcy and Miss Bingley."

"But won't that just confirm their suspicions?" Elizabeth asked with growing agitation. How could drawing attention to the improper statement made by Miss Bingley about Fitzwilliam help dispel the gossip?

Mrs. Gardiner shook her head empathically. "No, my dear. It will have the opposite effect, I assure you. The fact that she has already denounced Miss Bingley publicly and is now giving a ball?" She raised her brows, a mischievous smile on her face. "Well, that will just reinforce the fact that Miss Bingley is not to be believed."

Elizabeth shook her head, her confusion growing. "I still don't understand how that will help. How will society even know why she is giving the ball?" Why did she even care what society thought? She knew Miss Bingley's statement was false. But then the idea of anyone thinking ill of her beloved Fitzwilliam sent a rush of fury through her.

"Why, my dear, she will tell them! Lady Worthington is famous for her candor. It is one of the reasons society likes and fears her so much." Lady Eleanor patted Elizabeth's knee again, her manner reassuring. "Don't worry, my dear. Simply attend the ball and dance with my nephew. Lady Worthington will do the rest." With a sly smile, she added, "But I have to agree with your aunt: Lady Worthington will be hoping to announce your engagement at the ball. There is nothing quite so effective as replacing welcome and happy news with old gossip."

Elizabeth tuned out the chatter of her aunt, sister, and Lady Eleanor, lost in her own thoughts. She alternated between feeling a white hot fury that Miss Bingley could implicate her Fitzwilliam in such an improper way, leading to malicious gossip and pity for the woman. The more she thought about it, the more she agreed with her aunt: Miss Bingley deserved what she received, not for what she did to Elizabeth but for what she did to Fitzwilliam's good name.

**(1) I know this quote describes Darcy, but it also applies to the unconquerable Lady W. **

~oOOo~

Darcy was silent as he followed Gardiner up the creaky, stained wooden steps to the second floor of a dilapidated boarding house in a less than reputable part of town. Unpleasant odors assailed Darcy's nose, and he subconsciously brought the back of his sleeve to his nose to neutralize the malodorous stench. He was surprised to find that Williamson was staying in such a place. His apparel and overall appearance indicated that he was well-off financially, but perhaps the cost of medicine and doctors had sapped what money he had.

Gardiner appeared to be unaware and unaffected by his surroundings. He had remained silent since leaving his town house and traveling to Williamson's boardinghouse. The closer they drew to their destination, the more nervous and agitated Gardiner became. He held a small wooden chest in his lap, his fingers grasping the wood so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Darcy knew it must contain the letters Williamson had written to Mrs. Bennet all those years ago. He didn't understand Gardiner's reasoning for giving them back to him, but perhaps he needed to show Williamson proof of his duplicity.

As they walked to the door at the end of the dim hallway, Darcy noticed that Gardiner was perspiring, and his breathing had become labored and ragged. Concerned, Darcy reached out, laying a hand on Gardiner's arm. "Are you well, Gardiner?"

Gardiner stopped, running a hand over his head. Taking a shaky breath, he said in a weak voice, "I don't know if I can do this, Darcy."

"You can, Gardiner. He wants to see you. If he didn't, he would have ignored your letter instead of responding immediately. He needs this as much as you do." Darcy willed Gardiner to keep walking, to face his demons head on. He would never be able to put it behind him and move on until he did.

Gardiner straightened, pulling his shoulders back. "You're right," he responded in a resolute voice. "I can do this," he whispered to himself before continuing towards the door behind which held his hope of redemption.

Gardiner paused only a brief moment before knocking firmly on the door. Almost immediately, the door opened, revealing Williamson. The two men stood and stared at one another. Williamson's expression was decidedly wary whereas Gardiner's was determined.

Wordlessly, Williamson stepped away from the door, motioning for them to enter. Darcy followed Gardiner, taking a quick survey of the small room. A four-poster bed dominated the wall to the left, the bed clothes threadbare but seemingly clean. A small table beside the bed was littered with various vials of medicine. In front of the fireplace opposite the bed stood a table and three chairs. A small writing desk, wash stand, and wardrobe completed the sparse furnishings. The smell of illness pervaded the small and uncomfortably hot room.

The three men sat at the table, Gardiner and Williamson across from one another with Darcy between them. Silence filled the room like a thick blanket as Gardiner and Williamson stared at one another, neither willing to be the first to speak, the tension growing with each passing moment.

Darcy watched the two men, their gazes unblinking and fixed as they stared at each other. Neither seemed inclined to be the first to speak which Darcy found slightly exasperating. Gardiner requested the meeting, so he should be the one to speak first. But looking at Gardiner, it was clear to Darcy that the man was not going to speak anytime soon.

Clearing his throat, Darcy opened his mouth, determined to break the palpable silence. "It is good to see you again so soon, Williamson. I am grateful that your excursion to the park earlier did not exhaust you needlessly."

Williamson turned to look at Darcy, bowing his head. "I thank you for your kind concern, Mr. Darcy. But seeing Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth was worth any fatigue I might have suffered."

At the mention of his nieces, Gardiner straightened and his eyes narrowed. "I find it surprising that you would venture to a park that is such a distance from this place, Williamson. It must have been a terrible inconvenience."

Williamson raised his brows, a slight smile gracing his gaunt and pale face. "I admit that I went to that park in the hope of seeing your niece again, Gardiner. Any inconvenience I may have experienced was amply rewarded by not only the pleasure of Miss Elizabeth's company but her sister's as well."

Gardiner worked his jaw, unsure how to take Williamson's honest admission. "I find your confession disturbing, Williamson. You can have nothing at all to say to my nieces, and I must ask you to desist in seeking their company."

"I am not seeking their company, Gardiner. If I were, I would have knocked on your front door."

Gardiner leaned forward in his chair, his eyes indignant. "Like you purposefully sought out Lizzy in the park last Saturday?"

Williamson's pale face flushed red and he looked down. "I didn't mean any harm, Gardiner. Surely you must know that. I could never harm anyone." He looked up, his eyes blazing with righteous anger. "Unlike you."

Gardiner sucked in a breath and clenched his jaw shut to keep from lashing out in anger. He was here to ask forgiveness, not start another disagreement. He turned his head, meeting Darcy's eyes. He stared at the younger man, finding strength in his calm and steady gaze. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I don't wish to argue with you, Williamson. That is not why I am here."

Williamson leaned forward, his expression curious. "Why are you here, Gardiner? I admit I was astonished to receive your letter. I half expected a visit from those two men you had following me, but I never expected to hear from your directly."

Darcy answered, "Those two men were following you under my behest, not Gardiner's."

Williamson looked at Darcy, his brows furrowed in confusion. "I don't understand. Why would you have men follow me, Mr. Darcy?"

"Because I feared for Elizabeth's safety, Williamson," he replied. "After your peculiar behavior at the Royal Menagerie and Gardiner's assumption that you would be out for revenge, I hired men to protect Elizabeth, Miss Bennet, and Mrs. Gardiner."

Williamson stared at Darcy, understanding dawning on his features. He looked at Gardiner and in an unsteady voice, asked, "Did you really think I was capable of such a thing, Gardiner? That I could harm innocent women?" In a raised voice, he continued, "What kind of monster do you think I am?"

Gardiner held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "I didn't know, Williamson, but I had to take precautions." Gardiner licked his lips nervously. "And I felt you would seek revenge after what I did to you and Fanny."

Williamson studied Gardiner for a long moment. "So that's it," he said quietly. "That is why you are here. To explain what really happened." He leaned forward, piercing Gardiner with an intense stare. "I already know what happened, Gardiner. I just want to know _why_."

Gardiner swallowed, forcing himself to meet Williamson's censorious gaze. "You weren't good enough for my sister, Williamson."

Williamson slumped against the chair, his expression dejected. "Not good enough? Because I was not a landed gentleman? Because I was poor?" His voice gained strength as he spoke, his expression irate. "What about Fanny? What about her desires and wishes? She felt I was good enough. Why was that not enough for you to give us your blessing?"

Gardiner rubbed a hand over his face. The whys at this juncture were worthless and immaterial. "Williamson, Bennet had already asked my father for Fanny's hand in marriage before you ever arrived in Meryton. He felt that she was too young, so he asked him to wait. He did. And then you arrived and turned Fanny's head." He pierced Williamson with his gaze. "She was always meant for Bennet. My father would never have given you his blessing to marry his daughter."

Williamson shook his head. "I cannot believe that, Gardiner. Your father thought highly of me-"

"That didn't mean he found you worthy of his daughter, Williamson," Gardiner interrupted. He took a deep breath before placing the small wooden chest on the table in front of him. "This is why I am here."

Williamson eyed the chest with disgust. "Another bride, Gardiner? If you're here to convince me through pecuniary means to stay away from Fanny's daughters, then you can save your money and your breath. I will not speak to your nieces again. Now get out."

Williamson stood, glaring down at the man who had ruined his hope for happiness. The man who had lied and kept him from the only woman whom he had ever loved. He had hoped to see some remorse on Gardiner's face for what he had done. Instead, he was still trying to excuse his mistakes, to cover up his past with money. The only thing that mattered was that Fanny had agreed to marry _him_, not Bennet. And her brother had done everything he could to separate them. And why? Because he was poor and therefore, unworthy of a _solicitor's_ daughter.

Darcy stood when Williamson did and urged him to sit back down. He had noticed through the increasingly heated conversation with Gardiner that Williamson was becoming gradually paler and weaker. He worried that the excitement was not good for the dying man's health. He feared if both men didn't reign in their tempers and achieve closure today, it would never happen. Williamson would die, embittered and alone, and Gardiner would continue to berate himself for the rest of his life, never achieving peace.

"Williamson, may I get you something? You look very ill."

Williamson looked at Darcy, blinking in confusion before wavering unsteadily on his feet. He abruptly sat back down, resting his head on one hand. He waved away Darcy's concern, saying, "It's just a dizzy spell. I stood up too quickly; it will pass in a moment."

Darcy looked at Gardiner, gesturing to the chest. At the sound of the chest being opened, Williamson looked up, his eyes blazing with anger.

"I said that I don't want your money, Gardiner."

Wordlessly, Gardiner removed the bundle of letters and a ring from the chest, placing them in front of the man before him.

Williamson stared at the letters, his face draining of all remaining color. He held his breath, slowing letting it out before reaching for the bundle of letters. With shaking hands, he untied the ribbon holding the letters together, letting it slide heedlessly to the floor. Numb fingers slowly examined each letter as his quiet voice counted each one meticulously. When he was done, he gave a cursory glance at the mourning ring he had worn for twenty-five years before looking up at Gardiner.

"When Miss Elizabeth told me that Fanny had married Bennet, that she had not waited for me, my first thought was that she had lied to me. That she had not loved me as I loved her. Even knowing that you had lied about Fanny dying, I believed this." Holding up the letters, he said with extreme emotion, "She _did_ love me, Gardiner. She didn't wait because you kept my letters from her." He carefully put the letters on the table, his hand resting on them like a benediction. "I allowed myself to hope that it was so, but I never truly believed it. Even after learning that Fanny had named the child that looked like her 'Elizabeth,' I still questioned her faithfulness to me. Now, I have irrefutable proof that she loved me as I loved her."

Williamson dropped his head to his chest as ragged sobs shook his frail body. Bringing a hand up to cover his face, he gave way to his tears, sobbing out the despair he had felt since learning that Fanny had not died and had instead married another.

Darcy wordlessly passed Williamson his handkerchief, his heart full of compassion for the man before him who was broken in body and spirit. He looked at Gardiner to see that his eyes were bright with unshed tears. The time for healing old wounds had finally come.

"Williamson," Gardiner called softly after a moment of respectful silence. When he didn't answer, Gardiner said in a louder voice, "John."

Williamson looked up, wiping his face with Darcy's handkerchief, his expression void of malice and anger.

Holding Williamson's gaze, Gardiner said in a clear, firm voice, "I am here to make amends, to ask you to forgive me for the wrong I committed against you." Gardiner paused, ready to tell Williamson again why he had done so but decided that it was not necessary. He simply said with heartfelt remorse, "I am sorry, John. Will you forgive the pain I have caused you?"

Williamson stared at Gardiner for an indeterminate length of time. Finally, he closed his eyes and sighed. Pushing the letters toward Gardiner, he answered, "I do forgive you, Gardiner. But please, give my letters to their intended recipient. That is all I ask."

Gardiner blanched but took the letters, placing them in the wooden chest once again. He gestured toward the ring, "You gave this to my niece. Would you like it back?"

Williamson shook his head. "No, it has served its purpose," he answered quietly. Raising his head to meet Gardiner's steady gaze, he asked, "Would you make the same choice, Gardiner? If you had the chance?"

Gardiner pursed his lips, considering Williamson's question. He told Elizabeth that he would make the same choice, that he had made the best decision for his sister. But seeing Williamson again, the pain that his decision had cost him, made him rethink his previous position. He was not sure if he would follow the same path, and he told Williamson so.

Williamson smiled wryly. "I think that you have finally learned to be honest with me...and with yourself."

Gardiner stood, holding out his hand to Williamson. When he clasped it, he said, "Thank you, Williamson. You are a good man. I don't know if I could forgive the one who had wronged me as I did you."

"Dying gives one perspective, Gardiner," he answered candidly.

"Is there nothing that can be done for you?"

Williamson sighed and shook his head. "No, I am afraid not." He huffed a laugh, running a hand though his sparse hair. "I came back home to die, Gardiner. I never expected this turn of events upon my return. But I see now that it was meant to be. God had a hand in this, Gardiner. It was not coincidence that I saw your niece that day at the Royal Menagerie, nor that I spoke to her in the park and learned the truth about Fanny. Despite the heartache and the turmoil I have experienced these past five days, I am grateful for it. Now I can die in peace and with a clear conscience."

Gardiner nodded his head to Williamson and picking up the wooden chest, walked toward the door, his heart light.

Darcy held out his hand to Williamson. "Thank you for your time, Williamson."

"Not at all, Mr. Darcy. My curiosity would not be satisfied until I knew what he wanted." With a thoughtful look towards the door where Gardiner had just exited, he added, "I am glad I decided to see him. I almost didn't, you know. We both needed this."

With a small smile and a nod of his head, Darcy followed Gardiner. As he walked down the stained steps of the boardinghouse, he determined to do something for Williamson to make his last days as comfortable as possible. He was a good and decent man, and he deserved to die with dignity, not in a place that was one step away from abject squalor. He needed to be cautious; the last thing he wanted was to hurt his pride or to make him feel that he was taking charity. Perhaps Elizabeth would have some ideas. He smiled as he pictured her beloved face, and he joined Gardiner in the carriage, eager to get back to Elizabeth.

~oOOo~

When Darcy and Gardiner entered the drawing room, all conversation among the three ladies of the house abruptly stopped. Mrs. Gardiner jumped up in delight, relieved to see her husband outside his study or their bedchamber. When he had informed her the night before that he was going to seek forgiveness from Mr. Williamson, she had wept tears of relief and joy. Learning what her beloved husband had done had been a terrible blow. She had never been blind to his faults, but she had loved him in spite of them. But knowing that he had deliberately separated two young lovers from each other had pierced her heart with the injustice of it all, especially since Fanny and Mr. Williamson's story was not so very different from her and Edward's. She and Edward had been mismatched lovers, unequal in the eyes of society and her father, but they had chosen to face their wrath rather than be separated.

The last five days had been some of the most difficult in their marriage. She had put aside her personal feelings and opinions on the matter in order to help Edward deal with the decision he made all those years ago. She had watched him struggle as he came to terms with his dishonesty, soothing his pain and troubled heart with words of love and encouragement. She had faith in him that he would make things right. He was a man who valued character above all, and it had been a terrible blow to realize that he had not lived up to the ideals he espoused. She knew he was a good man, and she was proud of him.

"Welcome home, my darling," Mrs. Gardiner whispered as she kissed her husband on the cheek. She searched his eyes for the pain he had carried for the past five days. It was gone, absolved. He was unburdened, and her heart rejoiced. "All is well," she stated with certainty.

Gardiner clasped the wife of his youth and the holder of his heart to his chest as he confirmed, "All is well." He amended that statement, saying, "As soon as I talk to our niece."

Mrs. Gardiner smiled. "I think you will find her very amenable to that idea, Edward. Lizzy has been haunting the hallway outside your study for five days."

Gardiner nodded his head. "I know. Let us speak to her now."

Mrs. Gardiner was pleased that Edward wished for her to be present, but she was astonished when he addressed not only Elizabeth, but Jane and Mr. Darcy as well.

As soon as her uncle had entered the study, Elizabeth's heart had leapt with joy. As Fitzwilliam took her aunt's place at her side on the sofa and clasped her hand, she had watched her uncle's tender reunion with her aunt. He looked more like the man she had come to know, a man whom she had looked up to and respected since she was a little girl. He had made amends with Mr. Williamson; she could see it in his eyes and his posture. His very being seemed lighter, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. She sighed with relief.

"I assume that your meeting went well?"

Darcy nodded. "As well as could be expected."

Elizabeth nodded, her eyes turning to her uncle as he cleared his throat to get their attention.

"I have something I need to say to you all. Please make yourselves comfortable." He gestured for her aunt to take a seat, but he remained standing. He placed his hands behind his back, gazing at each of them for a long moment.

"First, I would like to apologize for my absence the past five days. It was cowardly and selfish of me. I hid my shame from my family instead of facing it like a man." He took a deep breath, his gaze meeting Elizabeth's. "I ignored you, Lizzy. I am sorry, my dear."

Elizabeth smiled. "I understand, Uncle."

Gardiner nodded. "I needed time. I have kept the secret of what I did to your mother and Williamson for so long that when it became known, I didn't know how to act or how I should feel. The last five days I have experienced a gamut of emotions. I am ashamed to admit that during the majority of that time, I tried to convince myself that my actions were justified, that what I had done was my right as Fanny's brother and guardian. To the eyes of society, that is true. But I have always strived to hold myself to a higher standard, and when I realized that I had failed in doing so..." Gardiner stopped as he tried to compose himself. "Let me just say that it was a very rude awakening. I had deceived not only Williamson but my family and myself. After some intense soul searching, I realized the only way to move past it all was to forgive myself and ask for Williamson's forgiveness.

"I admit that I am still struggling with forgiving myself. I have seen my error and have realized that my arrogance has harmed those I claim to love, and that fact is difficult to bear. I cannot change the past, but I have asked Williamson's forgiveness, and now I need to ask for yours. Will you forgive a foolish old man?"

Jane and Elizabeth arose with alacrity and embraced their uncle. "Of course, Uncle," they responded. Elizabeth added, "You're not an old man!"

The three laughed, and he kissed each of their foreheads.

As Elizabeth resumed her seat next to Fitzwilliam, she felt a heavy burden lift from her heart. Her uncle had made a terrible mistake and had kept it hidden for twenty-five years, and the guilt had slowly eaten away at his soul. When faced with the possibility of his guilt being known, he had shamefully tried to cover it up instead of admitting his error.

He had convinced himself that his motives were pure. He had many reasons for what he had done, but the foremost reason had been fear; he had feared what others would think of him, especially his wife, Elizabeth, and Jane. The idea of losing their respect had paralyzed him and had kept him from confessing his error. Once it was known, he was finally able to move past that fear and face what he had done to Mr. Williamson and to her mother.

Elizabeth marveled that this had all come about because of a chance meeting at the Royal Menagerie. But as Mr. Williamson had said when she first talked with him in the park, he saw it not as chance but as divine will. The process had been emotionally painful for all involved, most especially for Mr. Williamson and her uncle, but she was grateful that it had happened. Her uncle needed to let go of the secret that had been cankering his soul, and Mr. Williamson needed to learn what had really happened with her mother so that he could die in peace. Her mother...Elizabeth's head snapped up. Was her uncle going to tell her mother what he had done? Did she already know?

Hesitantly, Elizabeth asked, "Uncle, what about my mother? What are you going to tell her?"

Gardiner's countenance dropped. Fanny. What could he say to his embittered sister? Would it even make a difference? "I don't know, Lizzy," he replied honestly. He gestured to the table that held the chest with Williamson's letters. "I have Williamson's letters to her, and he asked me to give them to her..." his voice trailed off, and he swallowed with difficulty. "Telling my sister what I did will be extremely difficult, but I need to do it. I will do it." _Eventually._

"So she doesn't know why Mr. Williamson really left? Or that he asked her to wait for him?" Elizabeth asked, her distress evident in her tone and expression.

"No, Lizzy, she does not," Gardiner answered softly.

Elizabeth's heart dropped. She had hoped that her mother knew something, but to learn that she knew nothing... Coming to a quick decision, Elizabeth stood and moved toward her uncle. Pointing to the chest, she asked, "May I give them to her, Uncle?"

Mrs. Gardiner moved to Elizabeth's side. "Lizzy, are you sure? Your uncle will give them to her; there is no need for you to do so. It may strengthen your mother's animosity towards you."

Elizabeth lifted her chin, keeping her gaze fixed on her uncle. "Uncle?"

Gardiner searched Elizabeth's face, seeing her fierce determination. He sighed. He didn't know why she wished to do it, and he was reluctant to give her the opportunity, but he would. He just hoped that he was not making another mistake. "I will, Lizzy, but know that you may give it back to me if you change your mind."

"I won't, Uncle, but thank you. I don't know why, but I need to do this."

Elizabeth picked up the small wooden chest with a sure knowledge beating in her breast that the contents would liberate not only her mother but herself as well.

A/N: Well. There's a lot happening in this chapter. I am sure you have something to say, good or bad, so **please** tell me. I want to thank everyone who reviewed last chapter, especially you silent/anonymous reviewers :) I was able to respond to every review that had PM enabled.

Next chapter: Elizabeth goes to Darcy House for lunch and has a heart-to-heart with Georgiana. Darcy will talk to Bingley. Will Darcy make it back in time for Elizabeth's tour? *wink wink*

Chapter 36: Darcy goes to Longbourn!

**Please review to feed my muse!**

Much love,

MAH


	36. Chapter 36

A **huge** shout-out to my incredible beta, CassandraLowery!

Chapter 35

Darcy paused outside the door to the private room at White's that Bingley had reserved for their meeting. He took a deep breath to compose himself before entering; he had no desire to take his anger out on one of his oldest and closest friends. When Elizabeth had informed him of Miss Bingley's public humiliation and how she had bandied his name about in such a casual and improper manner, he had been horrified, and quite frankly, furious. What had the woman been thinking? Never before had he lamented his aversion to attending events during the Season. If he had been there, Miss Bingley would not have dared speak of him in such a manner. He internally cringed at the thought of being the center of salacious gossip. The mere idea of anyone pairing his name with Miss Bingley's was utterly abhorrent. When Elizabeth had told him of Lady Worthington's ball and its purpose to stem the gossip, it had taken every ounce of his self control to not respond in anger and disgust. The last thing he wanted was to be put on public display for the _ton_ to gawk at. The only bright spot in the infernal affair was seeing Elizabeth's righteous indignation on his behalf. He smiled at the recollection; she had been glorious. It warmed his heart to know that she was as protective and possessive of him as he was of her. Not once had she spoken of how this news affected her. Her only concern had been of him and how he must be feeling. He truly didn't deserve such a woman.

Darcy opened the door, prepared to face his friend. He was unsurprised to find Bingley pacing in an agitated manner; his entire demeanor indicated deep distress. He was so caught up in his pacing that he hadn't even realized that Darcy had entered the room. He looked up, startled, as Darcy closed the door.

"Darcy. Good. You're here. Please take a seat." Bingley's stilted speech and lack of eye contact caused Darcy to raise his brows. He sighed. He had decided to let Bingley take the lead, but seeing his friend in such obvious distress caused him to change his mind.

Without preamble, Darcy said, "Bingley, I already know what happened."

Bingley's head shot up to meet Darcy's gaze before averting his eyes in shame and dejection. He sat heavily in a chair, leaning forward to place his head in his hands.

Taking the chair across from his friend, Darcy said in an even tone, "I don't blame you for your sister's actions, Bingley."

Bingley blinked at Darcy in amazement. "How can you not, Darcy? I should have done something, prevented my sister from saying..."

"You are not responsible for the actions of your sister, Bingley," Darcy reiterated in a firm tone. "She behaved in a despicable manner, not you."

Bingley slumped back in the chair, raising his head to meet Darcy's steadfast and non-judgmental gaze. "I am truly sorry, my friend. I should never have allowed her to go to that ball. I should have believed you when you told me she would be shunned from polite society." He shook his head, his expression slightly bewildered. "I never imagined that she would behave so improperly in public."

Darcy barely refrained from responding in exasperation. Bingley had always been blind where his sister was concerned. He had made it a habit, constantly making excuses for her behavior instead of correcting her as he should have done, not only as her brother but also as the head of his family. Bingley had an unfortunate tendency to ignore or forget any unpleasantness which was easier than dealing with the situation. The fact that Bingley had already forgotten his sister's improper behavior exactly one week ago at his birthday dinner was evidence of this habit.

Realizing that bringing up his friend's lackadaisical attitude towards his sister would be futile, he asked, "How did your sister respond when you told her you were releasing her dowry to set up her own establishment?"

Bingley huffed a laugh. "She simply laughed at me and left the room in the middle of our conversation." He stood and began pacing once again. "I don't know what else to do." He stopped and looked at Darcy, his expression hopeful and expectant.

Darcy stared at his friend in confusion before sudden understanding dawned: Bingley was looking to him to solve his problems. He clenched his jaw shut to prevent him from saying something he would later regret. He reminded himself that this was _Bingley,_ his amiable and easy-going friend, the friend who thought well of everyone and was liked by all. He was the man who had helped him through the death of his father, the man who looked up to Darcy and tried to emulate him. Darcy had taken the younger man under his wing at Cambridge and had helped him to maneuver the uncertain waters of a society of which he was unaware and newly a part of.

An unwelcome thought penetrated his musings: had he somehow enabled Bingley, unknowingly influencing his decisions so that he had come to expect help from him? Darcy looked at his friend who was sitting before him, obviously waiting anxiously for him to make his problems go away. And Darcy was left with the uncomfortable realization that he _had_ unduly influenced Bingley, albeit unknowingly. He could recall several instances in the past year in which he had influenced his friend, the latest being the suggestion to remove his sister from his household by releasing her dowry.

Darcy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. His interference, however kindly meant, would need to stop immediately. He was doing his friend no favors by simply telling him what to do. How often had he silently berated his friend for his indecisiveness, his unwillingness to deal with his sister's improper behavior? He knew Bingley's character almost as well as his own. How could he not see that Bingley was prone to follow rather than to lead?

"Darcy?" Bingley's uncertain tone brought him back to the situation at hand.

Darcy gazed at his friend with determination. No longer would he tell his friend what to do. He was a man, the head of his house. It was time he started acting like it. "Bingley, what do you think you should do?"

Bingley blinked. "I don't know, Darcy! That is why I am asking you."

Darcy sighed. This was not going to be easy. "Bingley, she is _your _sister. You know the best way to handle this situation."

Bingley straightened, encouraged by the confidence he saw in his friend's eyes. Hesitantly he said, "Well, I suppose I could simply make the arrangements with my solicitor." He stopped and turned to look at Darcy to gauge his reaction. Seeing nothing on his enigmatic friend's face, he continued, "I will find a suitable townhouse for my sister and a companion." His brow furrowed, and he revised his last statement. "No, no, Caroline will want to choose her own companion. But I'll hire the staff." He nodded in satisfaction, turning to smile triumphantly at his friend.

"Bingley, I know I've said this before but you need to understand how things will be for your sister now. She will find doors previously open to her closed permanently. What she experienced the other night at the ball is but a taste of what will come. She will no longer receive invitations to society events, and her previous friends will shun her. The only hope she has of marrying will be to someone of lower society, a tradesman or soldier perhaps."

Bingley grimaced. "I understand, Darcy. I will meet with my solicitor as soon as possible." He sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I have much I need to do before removing Caroline from my household. I am not looking forward to that," he finished despondently. He shook his head sadly. "She was not always like this, Darcy. I don't know what happened."

Darcy looked at his friend sympathetically. "She thought too highly of herself, Bingley. She never learned that money does not make the person but character. Society is very unforgiving, especially to those with new money. She has been scrutinized since the day she entered society and has been found wanting."

"And what of me, Darcy?" Bingley turned to face his friend, his expression discouraged. "What will society think of me?"

"Do you care what society thinks of you?"

Bingley stared at Darcy in amazement. "Of course I do! My father worked his entire life to see me as a gentleman. To fail in the one thing that he desired of me would be impossible." He threw up his hands. "And now my father's dream is over before it has really begun."

Darcy shook his head. "No, it is not, Bingley. Your sister has disgraced herself, not you. Society may be a little guarded towards you, but that is where your friends' support will aid you. You still have my support, Bingley."

"Thank you, Darcy. I don't deserve it, but thank you."

"Nonsense. You are my friend, Bingley. And I stand by my friends."

Bingley smiled wryly. "But not my sister."

Darcy sucked in a breath. "No," he responded tersely. "I will not."

Bingley nodded his head, resigned. "I was hoping that you would give her another chance. If she knew that her previous behavior would no longer be tolerated-"

"Out of the question, Bingley!" Darcy was incensed. How could Bingley even think that he would consider acknowledging his sister, especially since her latest _faux pas_ had resulted in dragging his name through the mud.

Bingley deflated at his friend's forceful tone. "You're right, of course. I should not have even asked."

Darcy took a deep breath to control his raging emotions. He had no desire for Bingley's repulsive sister to cause a rift between them.

"As painful as it will be to cut off Caroline, I know it is for the best. I desire to marry, and I know that my chosen bride will not tolerate her behavior." Bingley smiled brilliantly. "Although I have no doubt she'd be able to handle her magnificently."

Darcy felt his heart drop. He knew of whom Bingley was referring: Miss Bennet. He couldn't in good conscience let his friend think that he had a chance with her. He knew Richard's intentions towards that young lady and, more importantly, Miss Bennet's expectations regarding his cousin.

Not wishing to cause his friend undue distress, Darcy said gently, "Bingley, if you are speaking of Miss Bennet, I feel I need to inform you that she is already spoken for."

Bingley's face drained of color. "What? To whom? How did I not know this? I felt sure that she welcomed my attentions."

Darcy shook his head. "I know that her affections lay elsewhere. And I know the gentleman's intention is to marry her."

"So she is engaged?"

"No, not yet."

"They are courting?"

"No."

Bingley smiled in apparent relief. "Then I still have a chance."

Bingley's infernal optimism! Darcy sighed. "Bingley, I am telling you this to spare you disappointment. She is not available."

Bingley waved his hand, dismissing his friend's words. "Until my 'angel' tells me no or she is engaged to be married, I will continue in my pursuit. 'The rules of fair play do not apply in love and war.'" (1)

_Not against Richard, it doesn't_, Darcy murmured under his breath.

"You didn't tell me the name of the gentleman who wishes to marry my Jane."

Darcy looked at Bingley as if the answer should be obvious.

Bingley blinked, first in confusion, then in sudden understanding. "Colonel Fitzwilliam?" he gasped incredulously.

Darcy raised his brows in amusement. "Why should you be so surprised? My cousin is very eligible. He is the son of an earl and sufficiently wealthy. He can marry where he chooses."

"But he is a confirmed bachelor!" Bingley exclaimed in desperation.

Darcy couldn't help smirking. "My dear Bingley, a 'confirmed bachelor' is nothing more than a man who has not yet found a woman he wishes to marry and give up his independence." He leveled his gaze at his floundering friend. "And believe me when I say that my cousin wishes to marry Miss Bennet."

Bingley slumped back in his chair. "But they don't yet have an understanding?"

"They do not. But I know it will not be long before they do." Darcy said with conviction.

Bingley nodded absentmindedly. "Thank you for telling me. But I cannot give up. I have never met someone like her before, Darcy. She is...perfect, divine, an angel sent directly from heaven..."

Darcy rolled his eyes at his friend's sentimental nonsense. "Yes, I am sure she is," he drawled. "Unfortunately she is another man's 'divine angel,' Bingley. That is what I am trying to tell you."

Bingley frowned at Darcy. "What if another man was pursuing your Miss Elizabeth? Would you give her up so easily?"

"Of course not! But you are forgetting one important fact, Bingley: I am engaged to Elizabeth. She is mine and was always meant to be mine."

Bingley smiled. "Then you understand. That is how I feel about Jane, that she was meant to be mine. I cannot give up, Darcy. I am determined."

Darcy shook his head at his friend's obtuseness. This was not the first time his friend had expressed such sentiments. It seemed that every time Bingley wrote to him, he was extolling the virtues of yet another "angel." He couldn't fault Bingley in his admiration for Miss Bennet, knowing he would be unable to resist the fair beauty. Miss Bennet was simply another in a long line of failed romances. He sincerely hoped Bingley would not be too disappointed when Miss Bennet became engaged to his cousin.

Further discourse was interrupted by servants bringing in their meal. Darcy watched Bingley as he ate, his face alternating between grim determination and hopeful expectation. Darcy sighed, glancing at the clock on the mantle. Elizabeth had arrived at Darcy House approximately one hour ago at noon. He knew that Georgiana was planning on eating shortly after her arrival, so they were probably just finishing up now. He could reasonably leave Bingley within the next hour which meant he might make it back before they toured the mistress' chambers. He had asked Georgiana to delay showing them to Elizabeth for as long as possible.

His attention was diverted as Bingley cleared his throat.

"Darcy," Bingley began hesitantly, toying with his fork, "I have been thinking that it is time for me to buy an estate."

Darcy nodded his head, unsurprised by his friend's admission. He knew that Bingley's father had wanted his only son to become a member of the landed gentry. Buying an estate was the next logical step in becoming a gentleman.

"Have you made inquiries of properties for sale?"

Bingley shook his head. "I have not. To be honest, I don't know the first thing to look for." He looked at Darcy, his expression once again hopeful and expectant.

Darcy waited. He was not adverse to assisting his friend in finding a suitable estate, but he wanted Bingley to take the initiative, to ask him, rather than to simply expect his assistance.

Bingley stared at Darcy, his expression changing to one of impatience. "Well?"

Darcy raised his brows. "Well what?"

"Are you going to assist me?"

Darcy looked at his impatient, overeager friend and sighed. "I don't recall you asking me to assist you, Bingley."

Bingley blinked stupidly before his expression morphed into one of chagrin. He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "Darcy, will you assist me in locating a suitable property to buy?"

"I would be happy to, Bingley." Darcy smiled at the look of utter relief on his younger friend's face. "I suggest that you lease a property for at least one year before deciding to purchase. Have you given any thought to where you would like to look?"

Bingley grinned slyly at Darcy before replying promptly, "Hertfordshire."

**(1) "The rules of fair play do not apply in love and war" comes from the novel, ****_Euphues: The Anatomy of Wit_****, published in 1579. The quote is the earliest version of "All is fair in love and war" which appeared for the first time in the English novel, ****_Frank Fairleigh_****, published in 1850.**

~oOOo~

Darcy hurried down the stairs at White's, cognizant of the time; his conversation with Bingley had lasted much longer than he had anticipated. After recovering from the shock of Bingley wishing to look for properties in Hertfordshire, he had asked his friend to keep his options open. He knew he was overreacting; the chances of Bingley succeeding in securing Miss Bennet's hand were practically nonexistent. He heartily wished that he had not given into the temptation of interrupting his cousin and Miss Bennet the day before. If he hadn't, his cousin and Miss Bennet would be officially courting, and Bingley would not even consider finding properties in the county in which Miss Bennet resided. He had agreed to be a guest at Bingley's leased estate to provide first-hand experience in the running of a large property, and his honor would not allow him to renege. But if Bingley persisted in following through and finding an estate in Hertfordshire, he knew that nothing, not even a promise to a friend, would allow him to reside for any length of time in the same county as Elizabeth's mother.

Darcy nodded to several acquaintances, moving quickly towards his escape. He drew many sidelong glances as he passed, but he ignored them. No doubt the _gentlemen_ were discussing the nature of his possible "relationship" with Miss Bingley. He had come to the conclusion long ago that gentlemen were just as likely to gossip as their female counterparts. It was one of the reasons he avoided and detested society; they were nothing but whited sepulchers, ready and willing to tear a person to shreds with barbed words and cutting glances for the very behavior they indulged in _discreetly_. The false superiority and moral degradation of the majority of these "upstanding gentlemen" disgusted him. He had few acquaintances, and even fewer friends, whom he could tolerate spending an evening with...which was why he was grateful that Miss Bingley's abhorrent behavior had not led to the end of his friendship with Bingley.

As he neared the front door of White's, he breathed an audible sigh of relief. No sooner had he donned his hat and gloves and made ready to escape this dungeon of moral decay than a familiar voice called to him from behind. He gritted his teeth at the unwelcome delay and turned to face the smiling face of Sir Reginald Lynton.

"Ah, Darcy! I thought I recognized that stiff posture and determined gait," Lynton chided good-naturedly.

Darcy bowed perfunctorily. "Lynton, good day to you. I apologize, but I have somewhere I need to be."

Lynton raised a brow at his curt dismissal. Leaning in closer, he said in a quiet tone so as not to be overheard, "I admit I am surprised to see you here, Darcy. After Miss Bingley's veiled implication the other night..." His voice trailed off, assessing his reaction.

Darcy scowled, his estimation of Lynton's intelligence and common sense dropping drastically. "You should not believe everything you hear, Lynton. It is beneath you."

"From you Darcy, that is practically a compliment. I am flattered."

Darcy remained silent, his gaze unrelenting.

Lynton sighed, glancing around him and satisfied they had sufficient privacy, said quietly, "I don't believe a word of it, Darcy; I believe you are an honorable man." He smirked. "Besides, the idea of any sane, rational gentlemen becoming involved with _that_ woman is inconceivable."

Darcy's mouth quirked at the corner in a semblance of a smile. "Indeed."

"I saw Bingley earlier. He didn't look well, poor fellow. Perhaps I'll invite him to play faro. Losing money always lifts my mood."

Darcy gave Lynton a genuine smile, knowing that Lynton's invitation was the same as throwing his considerable influence behind Bingley's tenuous position in society. "I am sure that Bingley will appreciate that, Lynton," Darcy said with feeling.

Lynton nodded his head, "Good." He shifted his stance, his expression turning uncertain. He cleared his throat. "I...ah...that is, I was wondering..."

Darcy raised his brows at Lynton's apparent discomfort. "What is it you wish to ask me, Lynton? I really do need to be somewhere."

Lynton raised his gaze to meet Darcy's and blurted out, "Does that 'need to be somewhere' have anything to do with Miss Elizabeth?"

Darcy stared at Lynton, noticing the slight flush on his face at the mention of his betrothed. He was struck with the sudden realization that Lynton still harbored some affection for his Elizabeth. He felt a wave of possessiveness crash over him at the thought of Lynton having any role other than indifferent acquaintance in _his_ Elizabeth's life. He knew such fears were unfounded; Elizabeth had chosen _him_. But Darcy was mindful of the fact that Elizabeth could just as easily have chosen Lynton. Despite their rivalry for Elizabeth's affections, Darcy knew Lynton to be an honorable man, and he had no wish to cause him undue distress.

"Elizabeth and I are betrothed, Lynton," Darcy stated quietly. "I leave tomorrow to obtain her father's consent."

Lynton nodded, a resigned expression on his face. He smiled sadly. "I suppose Miss Elizabeth chose the best man after all."

Darcy gazed at Lynton thoughtfully. "No, not the best man, just the right one."

Lynton looked at Darcy appraisingly. "You were always so confident that she would choose you."

"Elizabeth was always meant to be mine, Lynton," Darcy said with conviction.

Lynton smiled wryly, clapping Darcy on the back. "Well, I congratulate you on winning the heart of a most worthy lady. I will not lie, Darcy; I envy you." He smirked and said jokingly, "If her father happens to refuse your suit, just know that I'll be waiting." With a wink and a friendly salute, Lynton walked away.

~oOOo~

Elizabeth was thoroughly enjoying her time alone with her future sister. Georgiana's enthusiasm for her engagement to her brother was unparalleled; it had taken Elizabeth nearly a full quarter hour to calm her down, so great was her excitement. After exhausting her raptures over her own engagement, she turned to the likelihood of Jane's engagement to her cousin. Despite Elizabeth's protests, Georgiana insisted on claiming Jane as her future cousin.

"He will ask, Lizzy. I know it!" Georgiana stated with all the aplomb of a fifteen year old.

Elizabeth laughed. "That may be so, Georgiana. But until he does ask, we should not speculate or gossip." She knew she was being overly sensitive, but Elizabeth had been rudely made aware of the damage that could be done pairing a young, unmarried lady's name to an unmarried gentleman's. At the thought of Miss Bingley, Elizabeth seethed with barely suppressed anger. Unfortunately, Georgiana immediately noticed. At her concerned inquiry, Elizabeth waved aside her concerns with a bright smile and changed the subject. It was not her place to inform Georgiana of Miss Bingley's insinuation regarding her relationship with her brother. Georgiana was innocent and unaware of the more distasteful side of society and Elizabeth didn't wish to mar that innocence too soon.

As they moved into the small dining room for lunch, they spent a considerable amount of time talking about the wedding and all that event would entail, from the wedding clothes to the flowers. Seeing Georgiana's enthusiasm and knowing her love of shopping, Elizabeth quickly invited her to assist in shopping for her trousseau.

Georgiana's countenance fell. "I am leaving for Ramsgate with Mrs. Annesley on Saturday; I will be gone for a fortnight," Georgiana said regretfully. "This trip has been planned since the New Year, and Fitzwilliam agreed that it would be best to go now rather than postpone it." Her expression brightened. "That way I will be here for your wedding."

At the casual mention of her marriage to Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth's stomach fluttered with anticipation and nervousness. "We have yet to choose a date, Georgiana," Elizabeth responded with a laugh. "There is plenty of time."

Georgiana looked slyly at Elizabeth. "Not according to my brother; he wishes to marry by summer's end."

Elizabeth raised a brow. "Indeed? Well he has yet to inform me of this."

"Well, I am sure he will be very...persuasive in getting his way," Georgiana said, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Elizabeth gazed open-mouthed at Georgiana in astonishment. What had happened to the demure young lady she knew? Seeing Georgiana unsuccessfully try to stifle a laugh, Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.

Georgiana burst out laughing. "I may have overheard my brother and cousin talking. I am just repeating what Richard said about my brother's persuasiveness."

Guilelessly, Georgiana asked, "Is Fitzwilliam persuasive, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth felt a blush overspread her face. She coughed and said matter-of-factly, "Yes, he can be very persuasive."

Deciding a change of topic was needed before Georgiana asked in which manner her brother was persuasive, Elizabeth asked if Georgiana had visited Ramsgate before. They finished up luncheon with Georgiana enthusiastically describing the delights of Ramsgate and the sea.

After luncheon, Georgiana led Elizabeth outside to view the garden. Elizabeth's breath caught as she walked outside. Before her was a riot of color; the flowers were spread out like a variegated blanket. She recognized delphiniums, asters, violets, gardenias, and a variety of other colorful blooms within her line of sight. A winding path beckoned her to follow and lose herself in its wild beauty. Elizabeth was enchanted by what she saw.

Georgiana eagerly watched Elizabeth's face as she saw the garden for the first time. She felt slightly guilty that Fitzwilliam was not here to witness it, but she knew he most wanted to see her face when she saw the mistress' chambers for the first time.

Elizabeth spent a quarter hour exploring the garden, Georgiana walking quietly beside her. Knowing Elizabeth's enthusiasm for the outdoors, Georgiana began talking in detail about the gardens and grounds surrounding Pemberley. Elizabeth listened raptly to the picture Georgiana painted of her future home. _Home_. A delightful thrill went through Elizabeth at the thought of Pemberley being her home. How could she already love a place she had never seen before?

After returning inside, Elizabeth hesitantly asked if she could visit the portrait gallery again. Georgiana quickly acquiesced, and together they ascended to the third floor. Elizabeth paused periodically as she walked down the long hallway, stopping at the portraits who resembled Fitzwilliam in some way. She laughed to herself as she realized that she was trying to categorically find each and every beloved feature on at least one of Fitzwilliam's ancestors' faces.

Finally, she came to the portrait of Fitzwilliam as a young man of not quite sixteen. As she had the first time she viewed this portrait at her very first visit to Darcy House, she compared the visage of the young man to the grown man she knew and loved. She remembered finding more discrepancies than similarities between the young man and the grown man; now, however, she recognized more of a resemblance, particularly in Fitzwilliam's eyes. When this portrait was painted, Fitzwilliam knew that his mother was dying, but his eyes still conveyed hope, and a youthful innocence that life had not yet eradicated. Within six months of this portrait being painted, Fitzwilliam would see his mother's health decline until she succumbed to her illness. He would lose his father barely five years later, and would be left to care for a sister too young to remember her mother and the memory of a father too grief-stricken to care. Unbidden, she felt tears gather in her eyes as she thought of how lost and lonely Fitzwilliam must have felt. She blinked her eyes rapidly to keep her tears from falling, not wishing to alarm Georgiana needlessly.

As if sensing Elizabeth's thoughts, Georgiana, her voice laced with a near reverence, said, "I am so grateful for you, Lizzy; for bringing hope back in Fitzwilliam's eyes. He is a changed man, a better man." Georgiana turned slightly so she could see Elizabeth's face. "Because of you."

Blinking back the tears that threatened to fall, Elizabeth smiled. "It is I who am grateful, Georgiana. Your brother could have chosen anyone, but he chose me."

Georgiana smiled knowingly at Elizabeth, eyes full of a wondrous secret. "It was meant to be, Lizzy," she said with certainty. In a voice so quiet Elizabeth almost didn't hear, she whispered, "I wish my mother could have witnessed what she had long foreseen would come to pass."

Elizabeth's expression turned thoughtful as she contemplated Georgiana's choice of words. No doubt she meant she wished that her mother could see Fitzwilliam marry. What mother didn't want her children to find love and happiness in marriage?

Elizabeth gazed up at the portrait of Fitzwilliam's parents, her eyes lingering on the serene and beautiful countenance of his mother. She still needed to fulfill her promise to Georgiana in asking Fitzwilliam to share his memories of their mother. Truth be told, her promise to Georgiana had barely crossed her mind since the young lady had made the request. Elizabeth had been too caught up with Mr. Williamson and her own mother, and she vowed to try when she felt that the moment was right. She knew that Fitzwilliam was concealing his pain, unable or unwilling to allow himself to properly grieve. Fitzwilliam needed to allow himself to mourn his mother in order to heal the deep wound in his heart.

"I have not yet had an opportunity to ask Fitzwilliam about your mother, Georgiana," Elizabeth said remorsefully. "But I promise I will ask him."

Georgiana smiled. "I know you will, Lizzy. Once you are married, there will be ample opportunities to ask about Mother. I am sure Fitzwilliam is not the only one who can be persuasive," she said innocently.

Elizabeth bit her lip and turned her head so that Georgiana would not see her reddened face. She didn't know how she would explain her sudden blush to Georgiana.

She was grateful when Georgiana seemed unaware of her slight embarrassment and asked if she would like to see the family wing of the house. She nodded her head, knowing that this was one of the reasons why Georgiana had invited her to luncheon: to view the mistress' rooms, _her_ future rooms. Fitzwilliam wished for her view her suite of rooms in order to choose how she wanted them to be decorated. When he had told her his plan, she had protested, saying that it was not necessary. The look he gave her had quelled any further arguments. So she would see her future rooms and work with the housekeeper on any changes she wished to make. Fitzwilliam wanted everything to be ready for her before they were married, so she had until she left for Longbourn to make her wishes known.

Georgiana led her into a beautiful bedroom fit for a princess. The room was large, at least twice as large as her bedroom at home. The windows faced east, allowing the natural morning and afternoon light to stream in, giving the room a light and airy feeling. The colors were soft and inviting, with shades of pink, blue, and cream dominating the room. Elizabeth turned in a circle to take it all in.

"This is beautiful, Georgiana. I don't think I would change a thing."

Georgiana laughed merrily. "That is good, Lizzy, because this is my room."

Elizabeth halted in her steps and laughed with her future sister. "Forgive me, but I assumed that-"

Georgiana shook her head as she said, "This isn't the mistress' chambers, Lizzy. Your rooms are much grander than mine."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "I find that hard to believe."

Georgiana only laughed, grabbing Elizabeth's hand to pull her through a door. Elizabeth walked through a dressing room and a bathing room before Georgiana pulled her into a comfortable sitting room. She knew that this was Georgiana's personal sitting room as she could see a pile of books on a writing desk scattered with various sketches. A small pianoforte resided in one corner of the room opposite the large fireplace. A comfortable window seat beckoned, and Elizabeth wandered over to find a book resting on a soft, wool blanket.

"I imagine you spend much of your time here," Elizabeth commented softly. "It is delightful, Georgiana."

Georgiana glanced around the room, a soft smile on her face as if welcoming a beloved friend. "Yes, it is my favorite room in the house; it is my sanctuary. Fitzwilliam has his study, and I have this room."

"It is lovely, Georgiana."

Georgiana cocked her head to the side. "I wonder which room will become your favorite," she mused.

"The library," Elizabeth responded promptly.

Georgiana's expression turned thoughtful. "Perhaps, but the library here is nothing compared to the library at Pemberley. Reserve your judgment until you have seen it."

Elizabeth nodded. She knew whichever room Fitzwilliam was in would be her favorite, but she couldn't express that sentiment out loud to her very impressionable future sister. Maybe she would express it to Fitzwilliam just to see that certain look come into his eyes that seemed to melt her where she stood...

"Lizzy?"

Elizabeth mentally shook her head before focusing on Georgiana. She had a very strange look on her face as she said, "You must be thinking of Fitzwilliam."

Elizabeth raised a brow. "Why do you say that?"

"Because Fitzwilliam gets the same look in his eyes when I believe he's thinking of you."

Elizabeth cleared her throat. "I see. Yes, I was thinking of Fitzwilliam."

Georgiana gave Elizabeth a smug smile. "It must have been something particularly pleasant."

For the third time that day, Elizabeth blushed, shaking her head as Georgiana laughed. "Just you wait, my dear Georgiana. Someday a man will come into your life who will make your heart pound and your legs go weak in the knees, and then we will see who's laughing."

Georgiana waved her hand dismissively. "That is still ages away, Lizzy. I am in no hurry to fall in love."

"You don't choose to fall in love, Georgiana; it just happens." With a deep, contented sigh, Elizabeth added, "When you least expect it."

Georgiana's delighted laughter brought Elizabeth's daydreaming to a halt, and she playfully swatted her future sister. Linking her arm with Georgiana's, she said resolutely, "Now show me the mistress' chambers. I am ready."

~oOOo~

Darcy entered his town house, impatient to see Elizabeth. He hoped that Georgiana had been successful in diverting Elizabeth's attention elsewhere until he arrived.

Fletcher anticipated his unspoken question and said, "Miss Darcy and Miss Elizabeth went upstairs about twenty minutes ago, sir. I believe you'll find them in Miss Darcy's sitting room."

As soon as Fletcher began speaking, Darcy strode quickly towards the stairs. "Thank you, Fletcher," he called over his shoulder, taking the steps two at a time. He knew it was indecorous behavior but couldn't find it in himself to care. Luckily, Fletcher was the soul of discretion; he'd have to be with Richard living in the house, he thought wryly.

At the top of the stairs, he turned right towards the family wing of the house, slowing his steps as he reached the door to Georgiana's sitting room. He knocked softly before entering, frowning when he found the room empty. A quick look in Georgiana's bedroom revealed that they were not in his sister's suite of rooms.

As he left Georgiana's room, he saw his housekeeper, Mrs. Fletcher walking towards him from the direction of the mistress' rooms.

With a welcoming smile Mrs. Fletcher said, "I just left Miss Darcy and the future Mrs. Darcy in the mistress' sitting room, sir. They have been there for no more than five minutes."

Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. "Excellent. Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher."

"Of course, sir." Mrs. Fletcher paused before adding, "Perhaps you could send Miss Darcy to find me when Miss Elizabeth is ready for me." With a not-so-subtle wink, Mrs. Fletcher continued down the hallway.

Suppressing a grin, Darcy paused outside the sitting room for a brief moment before making a quick and rather impulsive decision. Bypassing the sitting room door, he went to the door of the mistress' bedroom and entered quietly. He walked quickly through the bedroom and into the dressing room, pausing at the partially open door to the sitting room. He smiled as he heard Elizabeth ask Georgiana if she knew when he would arrive. _I am here, Elizabeth._ Not wanting to alert Elizabeth to his presence just yet, he carefully peered around the partially open door to see if he could gain Georgiana's attention surreptitiously.

Their backs were to him, standing in front of a long table that held several different fabrics. He had taken the liberty of selecting several fabrics that reflected Elizabeth's love of the outdoors which he thought she would particularly like.

He watched them for a moment before Georgiana turned around saying, "I have a pillow in a color that will complement this fabric..."

Georgiana started when she spied Darcy lurking behind the door. He put a finger to his lips so she would not give away his presence. Georgiana glanced back at Elizabeth with a sly smile before saying, "Let me go and get the pillow, Lizzy. I'll return shortly."

Elizabeth hummed a response, her attention focused on the fabrics before her. With a wide smile directed at her brother, Georgiana left the sitting room, a jaunty spring to her step.

Darcy remained behind the door to watch Elizabeth. She was _here_. So many times he had pictured her in this very sitting room, quietly reading while she waited for him. He smiled at the reality standing in front of him. Elizabeth would soon be his wife and there would be no more farewells, no need to be separated.

Elizabeth lifted up the fabric she held in her hands and turned her head to the side, emphasizing the elegant line of her neck. She began humming, and he immediately recognized the melody of the song that he had begun to think of as _their_ song: Beethoven's Sonata. She suddenly walked towards the window; the only reason she didn't see him was that her gaze was focused on the fabric in her hands. Standing in front of the window, she held up the fabric in her hands to see the light dance across the iridescent green fabric.

"So beautiful," he heard her murmur.

Unable to stay away any longer, he quietly moved to stand behind her. She must have heard him because her head shot up, and she saw his reflection in the window as he stood behind her. She gasped softly, the fabric in her hands falling heedlessly to the floor. Darcy smiled, gently placing his hands on her arms as he leaned in and kissed her temple.

"Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth murmured, immediately relaxing her posture and leaning her head back against his broad chest.

Darcy lightly ran his hands up and down her arms, smiling as she shivered in response to his touch. "I hurried as quickly as I could, my love," he said as his lips caressed her neck.

"Mmmmm...I am glad you are back."

In response, Darcy encircled Elizabeth with his right arm, his right hand splayed across her stomach, drawing her closer. He brought his left hand up, a single finger running down the side of her neck. With a soft hum of approval, Elizabeth tilted her head to the right, bringing her hand to rest on top of his on her stomach. Darcy kissed her temple before slowly trailing kisses down the side of her face and the length of her neck, pausing at her rapidly beating pulse until he heard her sharp intake of breath. He inhaled her jasmine scent at the juncture of her neck and shoulders before lowering his head and placing feather light kisses along her collarbone.

"H-how was...mmmm...your meet...meeting with...oh, mmmm...Mr. Bingley?" Elizabeth asked breathlessly.

"Elizabeth?" Darcy responded, nipping her collarbone with his teeth.

"Y-yes?" Elizabeth gasped.

Darcy smiled. "I really don't wish to speak of Bingley in this particular moment," he whispered in her ear.

Elizabeth laughed softly, feeling Fitzwilliam's hand contract against her stomach.

Darcy wrapped both arms around Elizabeth, resting his chin on top of her head. "How do you like your rooms?"

"They are beautiful, Fitzwilliam. More grand than even I imagined." Elizabeth glanced down at the fabric at her feet. "I understand that you selected these fabrics for me to choose from?"

"Yes. But please don't think you have to choose from these alone," Darcy gestured toward the fabrics on the table at his right. "If you don't see something you like-"

"No, I love what you have chosen, Fitzwilliam!" Elizabeth turned slightly in his arms so she could meet his eyes. "It is perfect. Thank you," she finished softly, infusing all the gratitude and love she felt for him into her voice and expression.

Darcy stared into Elizabeth's luminous brown eyes; her eyes were so expressive, so beautiful. He could spend a lifetime gazing into their depths and never get enough. His arms tightened around her unconsciously. _Soon._

Darcy cleared his throat and gestured toward the window. "How do you like your view?" he asked, already knowing her answer. He knew that Elizabeth would be pleased that the garden could be seen from every one of the windows in their rooms.

Elizabeth turned around to face the window. "Beautiful," she responded with feeling. "I love your garden, Fitzwilliam. I don't think I have ever seen such untamed beauty. It is glorious."

Darcy smiled into Elizabeth's hair. "I am glad, my love. The views from our rooms at Pemberley are even more glorious." His voice lowered as he said, "I cannot wait to show you."

Elizabeth trembled as Fitzwilliam's intimate tone fell over her like a warm caress. She closed her eyes, committing this perfect moment to her memory.

"The garden is missing one thing, however."

Elizabeth opened her eyes in surprise. "What?" she asked, curious.

When Fitzwilliam didn't respond immediately, Elizabeth twisted in his arms to see his face. She raised a brow at his playful expression. "What is it missing, Fitzwilliam?"

"An oak tree," he whispered against her lips before kissing her softly.

Elizabeth's eyes brightened. "Will you plant one?"

Darcy shook his head watching in amusement as Elizabeth's countenance fell. He smiled slowly. "_We_ will plant one. Together. After I obtain your father's consent."

Elizabeth sighed happily. "Are you nervous?"

Darcy snorted, causing Elizabeth to laugh. "Should I be?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "As long as my mother believes that you are there for Jane's hand, all will be well." Elizabeth paused before saying softly, "I am sorry you have to be deceptive, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy sighed, kissing the top of her head. "For you, Elizabeth, I will do whatever is needed to gain your hand."

They remained silent, wrapped in each other's arms as they gazed out the window at the magnificent splendor below them. Elizabeth couldn't help wondering if it bothered Fitzwilliam to be here, considering that these rooms once belonged to his mother. Cautiously, she asked, "Is it difficult for you to be here?"

Darcy became still behind her, his arms frozen around her waist. Elizabeth bit her lip, wondering if she had gone too far.

In a carefully controlled voice, Darcy responded, "My father had these rooms stripped of everything belonging to my mother after she died, including the furniture. That is why the room is not as out of fashion as it should be."

Elizabeth waited, hoping Fitzwilliam would say something more. When he didn't, she debated whether she should say anything more. She said a silent prayer asking for the words to break through the wall he had built around his heart.

Gathering her courage, she asked, "Will you tell me about her? Your mother?"

Darcy didn't respond but kissed her temple softly before removing his arms from around her and stepping away, turning his back to her. Elizabeth waited, praying fervently for him to say something, anything.

"Elizabeth," Darcy said haltingly, running his hand through his hair. "I don't wish to speak of my mother."

"Why?" she ventured. She knew this was the pivotal moment; Fitzwilliam could either turn her away of face his fears. Elizabeth moved to stand in front of him, refusing to let him shut her out. She swallowed at the closed look on his face. It was as if a veil had dropped down, masking his true feelings. It hurt more than she thought it would. She gently raised his chin, forcing him to look her in the eyes. What she saw shocked her; his eyes were cold, almost lifeless, devoid of all emotion and feeling. She shuddered but refused to turn away. She locked gazes with him, pouring all the love and devotion she felt in her heart for this wonderful man standing so stoically and bravely in front of her. She showed him that she accepted him-as he was, that she loved _all_ of him.

Darcy's hardened gaze slowly softened as he gazed at the woman before him. He closed his eyes, overcome with the love and acceptance he saw so clearly in the depths of her brown eyes. He truly didn't deserve such a woman. He took a deep breath and said, "You don't understand, Elizabeth. You cannot understand."

"Then explain it to me, Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth replied softly. She reached out grasping his hand in hers, marveling at his strong, capable hands that dwarfed her smaller hands so completely. To see Fitzwilliam, always so confident and self-assured, so broken was heart-breaking. All she could do was lend him what emotional support she could and love him. She prayed that it would be enough.

Darcy looked down, staring at their clasped hands. The barest hint of a smile graced his lips as he squeezed the small hand that held his so tenderly. He looked at his Elizabeth, her eyes so full of trust and love. How could he not reward that faithfulness with some explanation. He just hoped that he would still be whole emotionally at the end of it.

"You cannot know what it was like after my mother passed away, Elizabeth. My father shut himself away, turned away from everything and everyone: me, Georgiana, Pemberley..." He closed his eyes as he remembered the overwhelming feeling of loneliness and abandonment washed over him. He had not only lost his mother that sweltering day in August eleven years ago, but his father as well.

"My father's grief made him incapable of doing anything; he stopped living, Elizabeth." Darcy raised his head, his eyes filled with a long-held pain. "My father gave in to his grief; he became...useless. I had to take up his responsibilities. Overnight I became father to Georgiana and master of Pemberley." He paused, running his hand through his hair, his breathing heavy. "I did not have the luxury of grieving," he said bitterly. "I saw that it made my father weak, and I couldn't afford to be weak."

Elizabeth felt her heart constrict at Fitzwilliam's pain and anguish. For eleven years he had carried this pain, locking away his grief because he believed it made him weak. No more, she vowed.

"You think grieving your mother will make you weak?" Elizabeth asked.

Darcy stared at Elizabeth. "Yes. I do," he said with feeling.

Elizabeth shook her head, "Oh, Fitzwilliam. My love, grief does not make you weak; it is the price we pay for love. Your mother-"

"My mother is gone," Darcy said harshly.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, clearing her mind of all thoughts as she prayed for the words to relieve some of his pain. Suddenly the words of her sister Mary came into her mind, and she breathed a silent prayer of thanks.

"Your mother is not gone, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy gazed at Elizabeth as if she had suddenly lost her mind.

Elizabeth smiled, her eyes shining with hope and love. "She is not. Do you truly believe a loving God would remove the bonds that we forge in life?"

Elizabeth reached out, clasping both Fitzwilliam's hands in hers. "That this love that we share ends when we die?" She shook her head. "I don't believe it does, Fitzwilliam. Love transcends all."

Elizabeth reached up gently placing her hands on either side of his face. "Dying is like walking into another room. We cannot see them, but they are still there. The ties that bind are still as strong, still real. Love binds them to us. Forever. Anne Darcy is still your mother, Fitzwilliam, and she will _always_ be your mother. Death cannot change that."

"I want to believe what you say is true," Darcy whispered, his voice hoarse.

Elizabeth bestowed a soft kiss, seeking to give comfort. "Let me believe for the both of us," she replied.

Darcy encircled Elizabeth in his arms, crushing her body to his as he gave way to his grief. Elizabeth held him as his body shook with suppressed sobs. She fought to keep her own tears at bay but was unsuccessful. Healing had begun.

Several heartbeats later, Darcy pulled away. His face was devoid of tears, but his eyes were red. His willingness to be so vulnerable before her moved Elizabeth, and she felt her heart swell with pride and happiness. She loved him more in that moment than ever before.

"I love you, Fitzwilliam George Darcy," Elizabeth stated, her voice breaking with emotion.

Darcy rested his forehead against hers for a brief moment before raising his head, his gaze caressing her face lovingly, reverently. "I love you, Elizabeth Darcy."

Elizabeth's breath caught, the significance of the moment overwhelming. _Elizabeth Darcy_. Although their lives were not yet bound before God and man, in this perfect moment their souls were inexplicably and undeniably connected. Tears of joy filled her eyes and slid silently down her face. Fitzwilliam kissed away each one while whispering tender endearments with every soft brush of his lips.

After Elizabeth had composed herself, Darcy kissed her hand before wordlessly leading her to the sofa a few steps away. Darcy sat, pulling her onto his lap. He situated her comfortably across his legs, tucking her head into the crook of his neck, his arms draped loosely around her waist. Elizabeth closed her eyes in utter contentment and peace, resting her hand on his chest to feel his steady heartbeat.

After a brief moment of expectant silence, Darcy took a deep breath. "My mother loved Pemberley in the spring..."

A/N:

Please don't be **too** worried about the reappearance of Lynton. He's not going to somehow prevent Darcy from going to Longbourn. But he will pop up again in the very near future.

Just a reminder, there is no Wickham in this story (yea!) so there will no negative repercussions of Georgiana going to Ramsgate.

Please share with me your thoughts on this chapter. I love hearing from you!

Much love,

MAH


	37. Chapter 37

Thank you, thank you to my amazing beta, CassandraLowery, who edited this chapter in the wee hours of the morning so you could get it today.

Chapter 36

Georgiana sighed happily as she walked sedately down the stairs, her outwardly calm appearance belying her inner joy. Fitzwilliam had talked to Elizabeth about Mother! She smiled as she remembered the day before when she had quietly looked into her mother's sitting room to find her brother and Elizabeth on the sofa. She felt herself blush, remembering seeing such an intimate scene. She had been shocked seeing Elizabeth on her brother's lap. Her shock, however, had rapidly given way to elation when she realized that Fitzwilliam was telling Elizabeth about their mother. The desire to stay and listen had been overwhelming, but she knew that this time was for her brother and Elizabeth. She had waited years to hear about her mother, so she could wait a little longer.

Georgiana stifled a yawn as she walked toward the music room. She had awoken uncharacteristically early in order to see her brother before he left for Hertfordshire. She smiled, remembering her brother's barely-concealed nervous excitement as he bid her farewell. She had been sorely tempted to tease Fitzwilliam about his preoccupied air but decided against it. She knew how important this journey was and the subsequent meeting with Elizabeth's father. Instead, she had simply wished him "good luck" and "safe travels."

Lost in her rumination, Georgiana was startled when her cousin called her name.

"Richard! Where have..." Georgiana's question died in her throat at the grave look on her cousin's face. She had not seen him since Wednesday evening when he had been called away rather urgently. He had left with no explanation to either herself or her brother. Her heart sank when she noticed that Richard's batman, Lieutenant Masen, was with him. His batman's presence could only mean one thing: Richard was leaving.

Richard spoke quietly to Lt. Masen before turning his attention to her. Georgiana was vaguely aware of Lt. Masen bowing his head as he passed her in the hallway on the way to his commanding officer's room to gather his belongings. Georgiana fixed her cousin with a confused gaze.

Wordlessly, Richard took her arm and gently led her into the music room. After shutting the door, he kept his back to her, his shoulders tense. Georgiana waited, her heart pounding furiously in her chest.

"Do you have to report back to the barracks, Cousin?" Georgiana asked hesitantly. She knew that Richard's leave was up soon, and as much as she loved having him at Darcy House, she knew that he would have to return to the barracks eventually. She silently prayed that was all it was. She didn't want to contemplate any other reason for his uncharacteristic silence and grave demeanor.

Richard turned and when Georgiana saw his face, she _knew_. Her face drained of color as her mind tried frantically to come to terms with what she saw in her cousin's countenance. Georgiana shook her head in denial and said, fiercely, "No."

"Georgiana-"

"No! You promised that you would stay here!" Georgiana angrily blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. Ignoring her outburst, Richard led her to the sofa.

Richard took a deep breath as he sat beside his distraught cousin. "I have no choice, Georgiana. I am needed. I have to go," he said in a quiet but firm voice.

"No, you don't! You could still sell out..."

Richard stood and began pacing, running his hand through his hair. Georgiana couldn't remember ever seeing him so agitated before.

"I cannot, Georgiana. I have already accepted my orders."

Georgiana shook her head in confusion. "I don't understand, Richard. What happened?"

"Colonel Perkins' cousin died." At Georgiana's puzzled expression, Richard quirked a smile. "He has inherited his cousin's title. He is now Baron Sheffield," he said wryly.

"How convenient for him," Georgiana responded ungraciously.

Richard huffed a laugh. "Indeed. But it is hardly his fault, and now I am needed to take his place."

Georgiana studied her cousin whom she looked to as a second brother. She had been eleven when Richard had been sent to the Iberian Peninsula. Despite her young age, she had understood that her cousin was in grave danger, and had prayed every night for his safe return. When he had returned nearly three years later, she had been overjoyed. The past two years with Richard at the War Office had been a blessed relief. The idea of him being sent back was unconscionable.

Georgiana closed her eyes in reluctant resignation. "When do you leave?"

"Immediately."

Georgiana's eyes flew open, and she stared at her cousin in horror. "Today?" she gasped.

Richard didn't answer but gazed at his young cousin with sadness and quiet acceptance, knowing how his news affected her tender heart. He nodded.

Georgiana stood and embraced her cousin, determined to be brave and not say anything that she would later regret. As Richard returned her embrace, she whispered, "I am proud of you, Cousin. Please be safe."

Richard smiled against her hair. "I will, Georgiana." He was not foolish enough to promise that he would return, but he could promise not to do anything rash or reckless. He had too much to live for or rather, _someone_ to live for.

Richard released Georgiana, pressing a kiss on her forehead. "Please tell your brother that I will write as soon as I can. I was hoping to catch him before he left for Hertfordshire."

Georgiana smiled. "You've missed him by more than two hours, Cousin."

Richard snorted in amusement. "Hmmm, eager was he? I should have come here first thing but felt my parents needed to be informed first."

"Of course, Cousin. Fitzwilliam will understand."

Richard squeezed Georgiana's hand gently. "I am sorry that I will miss his wedding to Miss Elizabeth. Be sure to write and tell me all the details, for I know my fastidious cousin will not."

"I will, Richard."

Richard turned to leave but was stopped as Georgiana practically shouted, "Wait!"

Richard turned, raising his brows at Georgiana's unladylike behavior. He hoped she would not display any foolish female sentimentality. She had taken his news surprisingly well, and he had been proud of her. The next words out of his cousin's mouth stopped him in his tracks and made his heart beat wildly in his chest.

"Jane!" Georgiana gasped. "What about Jane, Richard? You cannot leave without seeing her."

"I have no intention of leaving without seeing her, dear cousin. Where do you think I am going next?"

Georgiana breathed a sigh of relief. "You aren't going to do something noble like tell her to go on with her life and love someone else, are you?"

Richard shook his head. "Of course not, Georgiana."

Georgiana beamed. "You're going to ask her to wait for you?"

Richard paused and looked at his cousin, her eyes bright with unshed tears. If Georgiana had asked this question even one week ago, his answer would have been much different. "No."

Georgiana blinked in bewilderment. "No? What do you mean, no?"

Richard smirked. "I mean, no, I am not going to ask her to wait for me."

Not waiting for his cousin's reply, Richard walked to the door and opened it. He turned, and seeing Georgiana's mouth open in astonishment, laughed. "I am going to ask her to marry me." He winked and exited to Georgiana's happy squeals.

~oOOo~

Richard bounded up the steps to the front door of the Gardiners' town house, his expression determined and resolute. Although he would never admit it, Darcy had been right. Why he had waited so long to declare himself to Jane was beyond him. He had been foolish to waste all that time vacillating between pursuing her or letting her go. If he was being completely honest with himself, he never really had a choice. From almost the first moment he met her, Jane Bennet had insinuated her way into his heart and mind. Before he met her, he couldn't imagine ever desiring to settle down and commit to one woman. Now that he had, he couldn't imagine his life without her. Richard didn't consider himself romantic, prone to sentimentality and flattery; he left that to Darcy. Until Jane, he had been confident and self-assured in every aspect of his life, never questioning his judgment or his reasons for doing something. Then he had met Jane, and she had literally turned his world upside down and inside out, making him question everything he thought he knew about life and love. The woman had him tied in knots, or more specifically, she had tied his heart in knots, and he liked it.

It was a rather terrifying thought to have one's happiness rely so entirely upon one person, but he didn't regret falling in love with Jane-quite the opposite in fact. She was the gentle rain to his tempestuous wind. Her calm common sense dispelled his irrational and impetuous behavior just as his exuberant nature drew her out of her naturally reserved demeanor. They were nearly exact opposites and thus a perfect match.

In his nearly thirty years of living, Richard didn't have many regrets. His only real regret was waiting so long to ask Jane to marry him. He knew she was meant for him almost as surely as Darcy knew Miss Elizabeth was meant for him. For the first time in his life, he had hesitated, allowing his fear to overrule what he knew to be right. Learning that he would be sent to the Iberian Peninsula again had given him the perspective he needed. There were no guarantees in life, especially in the life of a soldier. Happiness had to be seized and savored when it came. Life was too short and precious to waste on could-have-been or should-have-done. He was not going to waste any more time in achieving his heart's desire, and he wanted Jane. No, he _needed_ Jane in a way that, quite frankly, scared him. He knew that he was being selfish, asking for her hand minutes before he would be called away without any assurances of when he would return, and he _would _return. He would not allow himself to think of any other alternative. He had too much to live for; Jane had given him a purpose. He would ask for her hand and pray that she loved him enough to say "yes."

Richard's heart dropped when Simmons informed him that the ladies were not at home.

"I do not know where they are, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Only that they are shopping and will be gone all morning."

Richard didn't have the time to go all over London trying to locate them. "Is Mr. Gardiner at home?"

"I am afraid not, sir. Mr. Gardiner is at one of his warehouses and will not return until later tonight."

Richard quickly calculated how long it would take for him to go to Gardiner's warehouse. Realizing he didn't have the time to go all the way across town, he closed his eyes at the hopelessness of his situation. Why hadn't he thought to send a message to Mrs. Gardiner to expect his visit? He had to report to his commander at noon, and it was nearly eleven now. His only option was to write Gardiner and ask for his permission to make his addresses to Jane by letter. It was not ideal, and he disliked leaving when everything was still unspoken between him and Jane. Perhaps he could simply write Jane directly and send the letter through Darcy. He didn't like the subterfuge, but under the circumstances, he didn't know what else to do.

Simmons cleared his throat to gain the Colonel's attention. He had watched the Colonel's expression change from hopeful expectation to grave resignation as he informed him of the ladies' absence. He suspected that something serious must have happened to make the normally easy-going Colonel turn so morose and out of sorts.

"Would you like to leave a message for Mr. Gardiner? If it is important, I could send a footman to the warehouse right away, sir. Mr. Gardiner could be here within the hour."

Richard sighed heavily. "I don't have the time to wait, Simmons." He looked at the butler gravely. "I am being sent to the Iberian Peninsula immediately. I had hoped to see Miss Bennet before I left..."

Simmons' eyes widened imperceptibly at the Colonel's announcement. "I see, sir," Simmons said carefully. "Perhaps you would care to wait in the drawing room and write your message?"

Richard looked at the butler with a perplexed expression. "I don't see why..."

Simmons continued, "I believe Miss Bennet has left her sewing basket by the large sofa."

Richard stared at the scheming butler with gratefulness. A slow smile spread over his face, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Excellent idea. Thank you, Simmons."

"I am sure that I have no idea to what you refer, sir."

"Of course not. I'll just go to the drawing room and write my message to...Gardiner."

"Very good, sir." Simmons paused before adding, "I wish you safe travels and a speedy return, sir."

Richard smiled and bowed his head in appreciation and respect before walking quickly towards the drawing room with a light step and a singleness of purpose. He had a very important letter to write to Jane.

~oOOo~

Darcy stared out the window of his carriage, his gaze unfocused, unaware of the passing scenery. His thoughts turned increasingly grim the closer he came to Longbourn and the meeting with Elizabeth's father. He thought that he was mentally prepared to meet the man who had failed his daughter in nearly every way...a father who had been unwilling to protect Elizabeth from the censure of his wife. His anger towards the man was nearly equal to the fury he felt towards Elizabeth's mother. It was incomprehensible to him how two people, two _parents_, could treat a child so despicably. For Elizabeth's sake, he needed to push down the resentment he felt towards her parents if he were to make a favorable impression on Mr. Bennet. The last thing he wanted was for the man to perceive his indignation and deny him his heart's desire: Elizabeth's hand.

Needing a distraction from his unpleasant thoughts, Darcy turned his attention to the day before and his liberating conversation with Elizabeth. He closed his eyes as he recalled Elizabeth's hopeful words and gentle smile, the quiet acceptance and fierce love in her eyes giving him the courage to break the silence of his repressed grief and pain. Speaking of his mother for the first time in nearly eleven years had been difficult, painful, and...cathartic. With Elizabeth's quiet strength, he would overcome his reticence to speak of his mother, and the wound left by her passing that had cankered his heart and soul would finally heal; he would become whole because of her.

Opening his eyes, he was startled to see that his carriage was moving rapidly through a small town. He exhaled loudly; he was here. Unconsciously he leaned further back against the squabs, leaving his face in shadow. He had no wish to be on display for the good residents of Meryton. Soon enough they would know the reason for his presence. He took several deep breaths, preparing himself mentally to meet Elizabeth's parents. He knew that the next several hours would be an exercise of his self-control to remain calm, impassive, and imperturbable.

As the carriage came to a stop in front of Longbourn, he pulled his pocket watch from his vest pocket and smiled. He was right on time. Stepping from the carriage, his keen gaze swept the surrounding area before resting on the house in front of him; it was pleasant, neat, and well-maintained, albeit small. He calculated that the home was roughly the size of the dower house at Pemberley. His gaze was caught by movement in a window on the second floor, and looking up, he saw the eager faces of two young women pressed to the glass, staring at him openly. He suppressed a grimace as one of the young ladies turned to whisper in the ear of the other, no doubt about him and his presence at their home. Darcy surmised that the two young ladies must be Elizabeth's younger sisters, Catherine and Lydia.

Upon entering the house, Darcy was relieved to see no members of Elizabeth's family present. He didn't wish for any distractions until he had met with Mr. Bennet. Once he had Mr. Bennet's consent for Elizabeth's hand, he expected that he would be much more amenable to conversing with the other members of Elizabeth's family with equanimity.

Darcy followed the elderly butler down a short hallway before stopping in front of the door that, presumably led to Mr. Bennet's study. Darcy tensed slightly as the butler announced him.

As soon as Darcy entered, Mr. Bennet stood from behind a large desk, eyeing him with blatant curiosity. Darcy walked towards Elizabeth's father, his eyes taking in the large, comfortable room. Nearly every surface was covered with books. There were even piles of books on the floor next to the chairs and sofa. Darcy's mouth quirked in a smile as he imagined Elizabeth curled up in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace. He could readily see why she viewed this room as a sanctuary. Despite the organized chaos, the study was warm and inviting.

Darcy met Mr. Bennet's gaze and bowed in greeting. Before he could say a word, Mr. Bennet anticipated him.

"Mr. Darcy, I presume? Please take a seat, young man."

"Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Bennet."

Mr. Bennet snorted in wry amusement. "You and my daughter didn't give me much of a choice, Mr. Darcy. Or much of a warning."

Darcy met Mr. Bennet's sardonic gaze confidently. Although he knew that Elizabeth had inherited her father's eyes, it was still disconcerting. Whereas Elizabeth's deep brown eyes were warm and filled with light and laughter, Mr. Bennet's were sharp with cynical amusement.

"I apologize if we have inconvenienced you, Mr. Bennet," Darcy responded carefully.

Mr. Bennet leaned back in his seat, lowering his head so he could peer out above his glasses at the man sitting in front of him. He had quickly assessed the young man who desired his Lizzy. He was supremely confident and poised, his demeanor giving nothing away. His face was a carefully constructed mask, concealing all emotion. This was a man who was sure of his place in the world and was used to getting what he wanted, and he wanted his Lizzy. Mr. Bennet sighed, abruptly removing his glasses and tossing them on the pile of correspondence in front of him. Leaning forward, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, suddenly feeling his age.

Without preamble, he asked, "You wish to marry my Lizzy?"

Darcy was grateful for Mr. Bennet's directness. "Yes, sir, I do."

"Why?"

Darcy imperceptibly straightened. He knew he should not be so surprised at the question, but he was. He looked into Mr. Bennet's direct gaze and replied sincerely, "Because I love her."

Mr. Bennet stared at Darcy wordlessly for a long time, his sharp eyes searching for the truth of his words. Despite his failings as a father, he loved his children and desired their happiness. But Elizabeth was special; she was his consolation, his reward for a terrible mistake made long ago. He regretted much in his life, but he could never regret Elizabeth. Could he part with her to a man about whom he knew almost nothing? Could he trust the man in front of him with her happiness? He was rich to be sure, but would he, could he make her happy?

"And she loves you," Mr. Bennet finally stated. Despite what he wanted and believed, he knew his daughter. And if she said she loved the man sitting so confidently in front of him, then he believed her. He knew his Lizzy to be an excellent judge of character, just as he knew she would never give her heart to anyone unless she deemed him worthy. His heart broke just a little at that realization. He was going to lose her, and there was nothing he could do about it. If he was going to lose her, then it would be on _his_ terms.

"Do you have the settlement papers, Mr. Darcy?" Mr. Bennet asked in resignation.

Startled at the abruptness of his request, Darcy responded, "Of course, Mr. Bennet."

Darcy waited patiently as Mr. Bennet read through the marriage settlement. After a few moments, Mr. Bennet placed the document on his desk, his clasped hands resting on top.

"There is no mention here," Mr. Bennet tapped the document in front of him, "of Elizabeth's dowry, Mr. Darcy. I thought that Gardiner would have informed you."

Darcy hesitated briefly before replying, "Yes, he did, but it is immaterial. I do not need her dowry, nor does Elizabeth want it."

Mr. Bennet stared incredulously at the man in front of him, and felt a sudden spike of anger. Had his sacrifice been for nothing? "I see. How nice it must be for you to not have to worry about money," he answered acerbically.

Darcy clenched his jaw before saying, his voice tight, "I meant no disrespect, sir. But Elizabeth is adamant. She does not want the money."

"I suppose I should not be so surprised," Mr. Bennet said wryly. "Elizabeth has always been rather stubborn. No doubt she is angry with me because she didn't know she had a dowry." He pierced Darcy with his stare. "Why doesn't she want it?"

"You'll have to ask your daughter, Mr. Bennet." Darcy tightened his fist in a futile effort to control his temper. How he wished he could tell Mr. Bennet what he really thought of him; that his disinterestedness had caused Elizabeth pain, pain that he could have prevented if he truly cared about her. The man's apathy was sickening.

"I am asking you, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy forced himself to remain impassive but inside he was very close to losing his carefully-controlled temper. He expected Mr. Bennet to question him, his motives, and intentions towards Elizabeth. That was his right as a father. Instead, he was trying to get him to betray the trust and confidence Elizabeth had placed in him. He would tell Mr. Bennet nothing.

Mr. Bennet sighed heavily. "I see you are not going to answer, Mr. Darcy. But nonetheless, Elizabeth will have a dowry. I wish for it to be added to the marriage settlement."

Darcy bowed his head. "As you wish." He would simply donate the money to whichever charity Elizabeth desired. "Do we have your consent to marry, Mr. Bennet?"

Mr. Bennet fixed his probing gaze on Darcy as his fingers drummed absentmindedly on the settlement papers in front of him.

"Mr. Darcy," he began. "Please understand that my Lizzy is very important to me. It is a difficult thing to give her to any man, especially to a man I know so little about. She left this house and my protection just over a month ago, single and unattached, with the sure knowledge that I was the only man in her life. I wish for her to return as such."

Darcy blinked uncomprehendingly at Mr. Bennet. Surely, he was not saying... "You wish Elizabeth to return home unattached."

"Yes."

"Not betrothed," Darcy reiterated, his carefully-controlled mask slipping at Mr. Bennet's confirmation.

"Yes. I can see that your intelligence is not lacking, Mr. Darcy." Mr. Bennet's eyes twinkled with amusement at the sudden emotion swirling in Mr. Darcy's blue eyes. So the man had human emotions after all. How fascinating.

Darcy stood, his mask firmly back in place. "Sir," he said, his voice tight. "Are you denying my request to marry Elizabeth?"

Mr. Bennet sighed. "I amend my earlier statement that you were intelligent, Mr. Darcy," he said wryly. "No, that is not what I am saying." He paused to look at the man standing so stiffly in front of him. He didn't wish to part with Elizabeth, but at the same time he knew that he couldn't hold her back. She wanted this man, why he didn't rightly know or even understand. Elizabeth had praised Mr. Darcy's goodness, his intelligence, his loyalty, and his selflessness. All he saw was a pampered, arrogant young gentleman, used to getting what he wanted, _when_ he wanted it. However, he didn't have the audacity to tell the man "no" even though he was sorely tempted. He could tell the gentleman "not yet." Patience was a virtue, and Mr. Darcy needed a large dose. Besides, he was not looking forward to telling his wife about Elizabeth's betrothal. Her anger would be swift, and her censure vitriolic. He would do well to postpone that bit of unpleasantness as long as possible.

"I wish to have Elizabeth to myself for a little while longer, Mr. Darcy. I believe your original plan was to accompany my daughters home at the end of their stay in London. Next week, if I am not mistaken. Bring _my_ daughter back to me, give me a few days, a week at the most to be with her without the...disagreement...that your engagement is sure to incite amongst certain family members. Then I will grant your request, sign the marriage papers, and wish you joy."

Darcy took a deep breath before offering a much more acceptable course of action. "Mr. Bennet, if time is what you need, you have it. Give me your consent today for our marriage, and I will send Elizabeth home to you. Take a week to spend with your daughter; I know that she is eager to see you again. I will even remain in London so your time with her will not be divided amongst us. I will arrive a week after your daughters' return to announce our engagement and begin preparations for our marriage."

Mr. Bennet raised a brow reminiscent of Elizabeth. "Come now, Mr. Darcy. Surely you can see that my plan is superior, and you will not have to be separated from Elizabeth at all. I wish for my daughter to return to the bosom of her family in the manner that she left: unattached. I will give my consent a week after her return. Not a day sooner, young man."

Darcy worked his jaw, debating with himself before saying, "I don't wish to leave this room without gaining your blessing, sir."

Mr. Bennet leaned back in his chair, resting his clasped hands on his stomach. "Indeed? And why is that, Mr. Darcy? I don't believe my request is unreasonable. When you have a daughter of your own, perhaps then you will understand my feelings on the matter."

"I wish for your consent now Mr. Bennet due to the probable likelihood of your wife's interference with our betrothal."

Mr. Bennet remained in his relaxed position, but his eyes narrowed. "Mrs. Bennet has no say in the matter, Mr. Darcy. It is _my_ consent that is needed, not hers. She will not interfere; I will not allow it."

"Is that your final say, Mr. Bennet?"

Mr. Bennet nodded. "It is," he responded with finality as he stood to walk his guest to the door. "All will be well, Mr. Darcy. You will have my Lizzy. I am not willing to deny her anything. Just be patient, and you will have your reward."

Mr. Bennet reached the door to his study and opened it. "Now, I believe it is time for luncheon. Am I correct in assuming that you planned to return to London today, Mr. Darcy?" At Darcy's nod, he added, "Then I hope you will stay and take a repast before you go."

"Thank you for your kind invitation, Mr. Bennet, but I believe I shall return immediately." Darcy wanted nothing more than to leave and return to London and Elizabeth. He was furious with Mr. Bennet and his ploy to deny him Elizabeth's hand. Mr. Bennet's reasoning was flawed and showed him to be nothing more than a vindictive and selfish man. Darcy had been more than willing to give the man time with his daughter before they married, and he knew it. Mr. Bennet was making him wait for his own perverse pleasure.

Without Mr. Bennet's consent, Darcy felt it unwise to meet any other members of Elizabeth's family, especially Mrs. Bennet. He was confident that he would not say anything about his understanding with Elizabeth, but he didn't trust Mr. Bennet to remain silent. Elizabeth was convinced that her mother would assume he was there for Jane, but would Mr. Bennet go along with his wife's false assumptions? He didn't know what the dynamic was between husband and wife, and he was not eager to experience it firsthand.

"Nonsense, Mr. Darcy, I insist. I cannot sent you back to my Lizzy half-dead now can I?"

Darcy gritted his teeth and acquiesced before following Mr. Bennet into the lion's den. He halted at the threshold of the dining room at the sight of four females staring at him. Mr. Bennet ignored them all, taking a seat at the head of the table. Seeing Darcy standing in the doorway, Mr. Bennet raised a brow and with a laconic wave of his hand announced simply, "Mr. Darcy."

Upon their father's pronouncement, the two young women that he had seen in the window burst into giggles. Darcy stiffened his spine, moving quickly to the seat Mr. Bennet had indicated at his right.

"I told you he was handsome, Mama," one of the giggling girls said in a whisper which unfortunately, in the nearly quiet room, was clearly heard by Darcy.

Mrs. Bennet patted the hand of her daughter, her calculating gaze never leaving Darcy's. Darcy reluctantly met the woman's gaze, forcing himself to remain impassive in the presence of the woman who had been the source of his Elizabeth's pain and anguish. He calmly studied the woman at the other end of the table, coldly assessing each feature and comparing it to his beloved Elizabeth. They were extraordinarily similar in face and form, but whereas Elizabeth's entire demeanor and countenance radiated innocence and light, the woman before him was cold, calculating, and unfeeling. Despite her overall remarkable resemblance to Elizabeth, Mrs. Bennet's face was haggard, her lips thin and pinched. Her nearly flawless face was beginning to show wrinkles around her eyes and the corners of her mouth. She would still be considered a very attractive woman if not for the expression on her face and the coldness in her hazel eyes. The woman before him was not happy, Darcy realized with an almost unholy glee. Despite her best efforts to demean and belittle her daughter, Mrs. Bennet was the one who was miserable. Perhaps there was justice in the world after all.

"Are you going to introduce us to your guest, Mr. Bennet?" Mrs. Bennet asked with a saccharine voice that grated on Darcy's nerves.

"I would not deny you the pleasure of performing that office yourself, Mrs. Bennet," Mr. Bennet responded dismissively, not bothering to look up from his plate.

Mrs. Bennet rolled her eyes and wrinkled her nose in disgust at her husband before turning her gaze once again on her victim. "Mr. Darcy, may I introduce my daughters?" Pointing to the girl on her immediate right, she said, "This is my Lydia." Miss Lydia, whom Darcy judged to be around the age of Georgiana, smiled and batted her eyelashes in what she likely believed to be a seductive manner but simply left the impression that she had something in her eye and was suffering from a stomach ailment.

Mrs. Bennet next introduced the daughter on her left, the young lady who had made the statement about Darcy being handsome. "This is Catherine, or as we call her, Kitty." Darcy watched as Miss Kitty blushed a vivid red, barely able to meet his eyes. Darcy felt for the young girl and understood her embarrassment; he didn't like being the center of attention, either.

"And Mary." Mrs. Bennet waved an apathetic hand towards her daughter sitting directly across from Darcy. Darcy gave Miss Mary, whom he knew was aware of his understanding with Elizabeth, a kind smile. He was actually interested in meeting this particular sister of Elizabeth's. He had been surprised and intrigued when Elizabeth had informed him that the words she had shared with him about love and death had actually been from Miss Mary, the young lady sitting so quietly and inconspicuously across from him. Darcy met her light brown eyes, and she gave him a shy smile, her gaze full of understanding. It was clear that Mrs. Bennet cared little for her third daughter, probably because she was the plainest Bennet sister. But despite Miss Mary's mousy brown hair which was styled in an unflattering manner and her apparel which was drab and unadorned, she had potential. Darcy suspected that this particular Bennet sister didn't wish to be noticed and dressed accordingly. Although her appearance was unremarkable at first glance, to the more discerning eye, it was clear that she had a quiet, unassuming beauty. Her features were pleasant, and her eyes held wisdom beyond her years. Yes, Miss Mary had great potential. Darcy knew from Elizabeth that Mary was the quietest of the Bennet sisters, more prone to reflection and contemplation of spiritual matters.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, ladies." Darcy met each of the sister's eyes briefly before turning his gaze reluctantly to Elizabeth's mother. He nodded his head briefly at Mrs. Bennet. "Madam, I thank you for your hospitality." The words glided off his tongue without thought, but there was no real feeling behind them. Mrs. Bennet did not deserve consideration or deference of any kind.

Mrs. Bennet smiled at Darcy. "What brings you to our humble table, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy gave a mental groan. "I had some business with Mr. Bennet."

The calculative gleam returned to Mrs. Bennet's hazel eyes. "Indeed? And what business would that be, Mr. Darcy?"

"The personal kind, Mrs. Bennet," barked Mr. Bennet suddenly. "Kindly stop interrogating my guest."

Mrs. Bennet huffed indignantly at her husband, not bothering to hide her loathing for the man sitting across from her. Thankfully, the warning was heeded, and she returned her attention to her plate.

Darcy ate as quickly as possible without drawing undue attention to himself which was futile as Mrs. Bennet and Miss Lydia stared at him almost constantly. When they weren't blatantly staring at him, they were giving each other knowing looks, and at one point, they even began whispering to one other. Darcy couldn't remember a meal where he had felt more uncomfortable, not even the disaster dinner on his birthday when Miss Bingley had squeezed his knee under the table. He wished desperately that he was already on the road headed back to London and to Elizabeth.

Just when he thought he would escape the most awkward meal of his existence without any further conversation, Miss Lydia suddenly broke the uncomfortable silence by declaring in a rather forceful tone, "I know why you are here! You are come to ask Papa for his consent to marry my sister. I would guess you are here for Lizzy as you seem much too dour and reticent for dear Jane, but we all know that no man with any sense would look twice at Lizzy. She's not good enough for a such fine and handsome gentleman as you." Lydia fluttered her lashes coquettishly. "Am I correct? I am, I know it! You wish to marry Jane!" Miss Lydia's proud gaze swept the occupants of the table before landing triumphantly on Darcy.

Darcy carefully placed his glass on the table before he threw it at the offensive chit, and clenched his jaw shut before he said something that would require a hasty departure and a trip to Gretna Green.

"Lydia! That was unkind, and you should not say such things. Mr. Darcy's business is his own. Leave him be." Mary gently chided her younger sibling before giving Darcy an apologetic look. "Please forgive my sister, Mr. Darcy," she gently entreated.

Before Darcy could reply, Mrs. Bennet interceded. "Oh, do be quiet, Mary! My Lydia doesn't deserve your admonition. She is just curious about Mr. Darcy as we all are." She looked slyly at Darcy before adding, "I knew my Jane couldn't be so beautiful for nothing! Don't you agree, Mr. Darcy?"

Mary heaved a sigh before giving her father a pleading look to say something to stop this line of questioning. When it was apparent that her father was not going to curtail his wife and daughter, Mary asked, "Tell us where you are from, Mr. Darcy. Do you reside in London?"

Darcy looked at Miss Mary with surprise, knowing that she was well aware of his background. He gave her a small smile of gratitude for changing the topic. "My estate is in Derbyshire, Miss Mary, but I also have a town house in London."

"Which do you-"

"Oh! How wonderful!" Mrs. Bennet interjected, glaring at her third daughter. "To be so rich to have two homes! Your estate in Derbyshire must be quite magnificent, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy wiped his mouth. "Not at all, Madam. It is rather small," he lied without an ounce of guilt. She would never see Pemberley, so it was of little consequence if she believed it was less than it was.

Mrs. Bennet blinked foolishly at Darcy, clearly taken aback at his reply. She recovered quickly however and replied, "Nonsense! Surely you must be joking, Mr. Darcy!" When it was clear that she would get no further response from him, she began to prattle on about how lucky Jane was to have caught such a fine and wealthy gentleman, and if he would not mind finding rich husbands for her other girls. "Except for Lizzy, of course," she said matter-of-factly, waving her hand dismissively, an expression of distaste on her face. "That ungrateful girl will never catch a husband," she added peevishly.

"Mama!" admonished Mary as she glanced nervously at Darcy.

Deciding to take pity on Elizabeth's intended, Mr. Bennet stood. "It is getting late; I will see you out, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy stood and looked at Elizabeth's father with barely concealed fury in his eyes. How could the man sit there silent while his wife verbally abused his daughter? How he wished Mr. Bennet had consented to their marriage so he could say what he had been holding back, with enormous amount of self-control, for the entire meal. He turned his furious gaze to Mrs. Bennet and was pleased to see her quail under his censorious gaze, her expression one of confusion. Before he said something he would later regret, he bowed perfunctorily to Mrs. Bennet before following Mr. Bennet from the dining room.

As he left he heard Miss Lydia say, "Well, that was the strangest thing I have ever seen. Did you see his face? He was positively scowling at you, Mama!"

Mr. Bennet was silent as he showed Darcy to the door. "I will see you next week Mr. Darcy with my daughters. I wish you safe travels."

Darcy merely nodded before exiting the oppressive house, his clenched jaw aching from words left unsaid.

~oOOo~

Bingley knocked on the door of Gardiner's town house, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. After his conversation with Darcy the day before at White's when he had been informed that Miss Bennet...Jane...was being pursued by none other than Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, he had made the decision that he would not give her up until she took another's name. He had no reason not to trust Darcy; he had always been a good friend with sound advice, but he couldn't give up his dream of Jane as his wife. He loved her; he was sure of it. He had never met anyone like her, and he knew that she was the woman who would complete his life. Today he would watch her closely and gauge her reaction to his attentions. He could not be wrong in his belief that she welcomed his attentions. After all, she had never given him any indication that she was not pleased with his company. He was not ready to declare himself, but he would make it very clear to Jane that his intentions towards her were serious.

A few moments later, Bingley was in the drawing room awaiting Mrs. Gardiner and Jane. When the butler had received him, he had been informed that the ladies had just returned from shopping and would be down shortly. Bingley paced nervously around the room, stopping occasionally to gaze at a picture or figurine. He idly wandered over to the sofa and sat, his leg bouncing in agitation. He exhaled loudly before jumping to his feet to resume his pacing. As he stepped away from the sofa, his foot got caught on a basket and he tripped, nearly sending him to his knees. After regaining his footing, he turned to see what had caused him to trip and spied an overturned sewing basket, the contents strewn across the floor. Grumbling under his breath, he hurriedly righted the basket and began gathering the contents, haphazardly tossing the items inside. After gathering all that he could see, he peered around to determine if he had missed anything. Spying a paper lying halfway under the sofa, he bent down to retrieve it.

Bingley stood with the folded paper in his hand and went to place it in the basket when he spied Jane's name written across the front in a decidedly masculine hand. Brows lowered in bewilderment, he stared at what was obviously a letter written to Jane. But from whom? It was unsealed, just a single sheet of paper folded in half. He gazed at it for a brief moment before making a decision. Opening the folded letter, he took a deep breath and began to read.

An indeterminate amount of time later found Bingley staring wide-eyed at the single piece of paper in his shaking hand. He felt a wave of shame for reading such a private and personal letter, but upon further reflection, he found that he was glad. This letter changed everything. Bingley gripped the Colonel's passionate declaration in his hand, his eyes blazing with renewed determination and resolve. Hearing voices outside the room, Bingley quickly refolded the letter and placed it in his jacket before turning a welcoming smile, and warm greeting at _his_ beautiful Jane.

A/N: I told ya...I know that all of you are absolutely furious with me right now. I can practically hear your angry mumblings...Bingley would never do that! (Well, my Bingley would) or, how could he take the Colonel's letter? (He wants Jane and is not above playing dirty. Remember, he did say all is fair in love and war in the last chapter.) *sigh* So, bring it on, I can take it ;)

Personally, I am more furious with Mr. Bennet. ODC has a bumpy road ahead so brace yourselves!

Much love,

MAH


	38. Chapter 38

A huge thank you to my wonderful beta, CassandraLowery!

Chapter 37

Elizabeth leaned back against the sofa, tossing her sewing next to her with a soft groan of dissatisfaction. Restless, she stood and wandered over to the window, parting the curtain to look down on the garden below. Rain drops ran in steady rivulets down the window pane, obscuring her view. A quick glance at the clock on the mantel indicated a mere five minutes had passed since the last time she had looked. The soft ticking of the clock mocked her as she willed time to move faster. A soft sigh escaped as she rested her forehead against the window. She hoped the sudden downpour would not delay Fitzwilliam's return.

If his meeting with her father had gone as expected, he should be halfway to London by now. He was expected for dinner that evening, and Elizabeth was anxiously awaiting his arrival. Despite the reassurances from Jane and her aunt that all would go well, Elizabeth was worried; there was so much that could go wrong. What if her mother discerned the real reason for Fitzwilliam's presence and interfered? What if her father proved difficult and refused his consent? Elizabeth shook her head at that baseless concern. No, she was not worried about her father's actions. He knew that she wished to marry Fitzwilliam, and he had never before denied her heart's desire.

_Enough of this_. What Elizabeth needed was a distraction, something to keep her mind off Fitzwilliam's pending arrival. With renewed energy, she left her sitting room to search for Jane whom she hadn't seen since their arrival home two hours previously. The three women had spent the morning shopping which had left Elizabeth mentally exhausted and in desperate need of peace and solitude. She was sorely tempted to leave all decisions regarding her trousseau to her aunt and simply show up for her gown fittings rather than endure a repeat of today's harrowing excursion.

Shopping had been followed by tea with Lady Worthington at Worthington House which had been an...interesting affair. That venerable lady had kept them entertained with stories of the different balls, soirees, and dinners she had attended over the years. Elizabeth had been especially impressed that not once had Lady Worthington divulged the names of the individuals from her varied stories. Lady Worthington may be a collector of gossip and scandal, but she was silent as the grave when it came to keeping secrets. It was a revelation for Elizabeth to learn that Lady Worthington was an enigma in many ways and making her acquaintance had been a welcome delight, especially considering her initial apprehension upon first meeting her at the draper's.

The greatest surprise of the visit had been Elizabeth's discovery that Lady Worthington had been more closely acquainted with Fitzwilliam's mother than she had previously thought. Lady Worthington had met Lady Anne Fitzwilliam shortly before her coming out, and despite the difference in their ages, they had become close friends. Apparently, Lady Anne had not been close to her own mother and had found in Lady Worthington a much-needed confidant and mentor. Much to Elizabeth's delight, Lady Worthington had proceeded to regale her company with fond memories of Lady Anne during her season. After Lady Anne's marriage to George Darcy, the two women had not been in each other's company with regularity as Lady Worthington preferred living in London, and the Darcys had preferred the country. But the two women had kept up a frequent correspondence that had continued until Anne Darcy had passed away.

Elizabeth descended the stairs, idly making her way to the drawing room as she pondered the end of their visit and Lady Worthington's peculiar request. She had pulled Elizabeth aside to inquire if Mr. Darcy had revealed that his mother had been a gifted artist. Elizabeth would have thought nothing of the question if not for Lady Worthington's unusually penetrating gaze, as if she were trying to impress the significance of the question upon her mind. Her parting words to Elizabeth had been no less astounding: ask Mr. Darcy to show her Lady Anne's drawings. Elizabeth's surprise at such an odd demand had turned to bewilderment at Lady Worthington's knowing smile, leaving Elizabeth in no doubt that the drawings were of some importance for a reason she could not begin to contemplate. Elizabeth hoped that Fitzwilliam would know why Lady Worthington thought his mother's drawings were so significant.

Elizabeth entered the drawing room, a smile alighting her face at seeing her sister, but her smile faded to one of confusion at the curious sight before her. Jane was sitting in the middle of the sofa with the contents of her sewing basket strewn out on either side of her while she painstakingly reorganized the colored threads. Jane was fastidious when it came to her sewing basket, so to see the contents in such disorder was startling.

Elizabeth sat on the end of the sofa and picked up the colored threads nearest her and began the laborious process of untangling them. Jane glanced up, her harassed expression changing to one of gratitude at her sister's assistance. The two sisters worked in companionable silence for some time until Jane spoke, sensing her sister's need of a diversion from her thoughts.

"What did you think of our visit with Lady Worthington?"

"Hmmm?" Elizabeth responded, her gaze focused on untying a stubborn knot of green thread.

Jane smiled, shaking her head at her sister's inattentive behavior and repeated her question.

Elizabeth looked at her sister for a moment before a slow smile stole across her face, her eyes twinkling with suppressed mirth. "Diverting."

A burst of laughter escaped Jane. "Indeed. I confess, I don't quite know what to make of her."

Elizabeth grinned, understanding Jane's sentiment. "Lady Worthington is known for her candor; she speaks her mind, always. It can be rather...disconcerting." Meeting her sister's eye, she winked. "But I like it."

Jane huffed a laugh. "I admit I am surprised that you get on so famously with her Lizzy. You despise secrets, and Lady Worthington holds many."

"Yes, but Lady Worthington's secrets concern others. I only dislike secrets when they concern me." Elizabeth sighed, dropping her hands in her lap. "It is more than just keeping secrets Jane; it is a matter of trust. How can I trust someone who is keeping something from me?"

"Even if it is for your benefit?" Jane mused.

Elizabeth's expression was contemplative as she recalled the secrets her uncle had kept for so long and the pain that it had brought not only to herself but to her aunt and Mr. Williamson as well. Would she have been better off not knowing the history behind her mother and Mr. Williamson's ill-fated love affair?

With careful deliberation, Elizabeth replied, "I suppose it would depend on the situation. I have been surrounded by secrets all my life, and it hurts to not know _why_."

Jane looked at her sister, her blue eyes filled with sad understanding. "You are speaking of our mother."

Elizabeth lowered her head, her gaze focused on her task.

Jane sighed, abandoning her place to sit beside her sister. Elizabeth looked up in surprise. "Jane, you're sitting on your thread."

"Lizzy," Jane began, her voice hesitant. "Must you know why our mother treats you with such disdain?"

Elizabeth stared at her sister in astonishment. "How can you ask that, Jane? Of course I must know!" She shook her head in frustration as her fingers attacked a stubborn knot, her brows lowered in consternation. "I know if I don't discover _why_ I will never be able to move past the hurt she has caused and forgive her."

Jane reached over and clasped Elizabeth's hand, forcing her sister to focus on her words. "Yes, but Lizzy, you don't need to discover the reason in order to forgive her."

Elizabeth removed her hand from Jane's grasp. "You are starting to sound like our sister Mary: 'forgiveness should be given, not earned.' Please, Jane. Please, try to understand?" Elizabeth cried, a hint of desperation in her voice.

Jane clasped both her sister's hands in a firm grip. "Of course I understand, Lizzy. Just consider how much pain it will cause to discover the reason behind her disdain."

"I am stronger now, I believe," Elizabeth responded with confidence. "And I will have Fitzwilliam by my side; I will not be alone."

"No, you will not," Jane agreed, squeezing her sister's hands before releasing them. "You have me as well."

Elizabeth smiled at her best friend before saying with false merriment, "Now, enough of this! Let's find something less somber to discuss." With a sly glance, she asked, "I understand that Mr. Bingley paid you another visit today."

Jane wrinkled her nose making her sister laugh.

"Come now, Jane! It couldn't have been that horrible."

"Oh Lizzy! What am I to do? I don't wish to hurt his feelings, but he seems oblivious to my lack of interest."

Jane's obvious distress caused Elizabeth to return her sister's earlier comfort by clasping her hand in a gentle grip. "Tell him, Jane. It is better for him to know where your heart lies before his is further engaged."

Ignoring her sister, Jane continued, "I was barely polite to him during his visit. Indeed, if our aunt hadn't been present to converse with Mr. Bingley it would have been extremely awkward."

Jane lowered her gaze, her expression slightly ashamed. She leaned over and whispered, "I even mentioned Colonel Fitzwilliam."

Elizabeth's eyes brightened. "Did you? Well done, Jane! And what was Mr. Bingley's reaction when you mentioned the man whom you love?"

"Well, it was the strangest thing, Lizzy. His face paled, and he appeared...well, nervous and unsettled." After a brief moment's reflection, Jane added, "And he kept touching his left breast."

Elizabeth's brows shot up, an amused smile on her face. "He kept touching his heart?"

Jane swatted her sister. "Don't tease, Lizzy! I cannot explain why the mere mention of Richard would cause him to act so. In any case, he left shortly after."

"I believe that Fitzwilliam informed Mr. Bingley that you and Colonel Fitzwilliam have formed an attachment," Elizabeth said.

"Did he? Well, I must thank my future brother then," Jane replied with a kind smile. Her smile disappeared to be replaced with a look of melancholy. "It's been two days, Lizzy." Seeing her sister's confusion, she clarified, "I haven't seen Richard in two days."

"I am sure it must be something extremely important to keep him from your side, Jane," Elizabeth said with reassurance. "Perhaps he will come with Fitzwilliam to dinner tonight. I know the invitation included him as well."

Jane's resultant smile was blinding. "Oh, I hope he will! I miss him so." Realizing what she had said, Jane blushed a vivid crimson as her sister laughed.

"I understand the sentiment, Jane. I miss Fitzwilliam terribly, and it hasn't even been twenty-four hours since I last saw him." Elizabeth's eyes strayed to the clock on the mantel, her gaze betraying her uneasiness.

Seeing Elizabeth's anxious expression, Jane was quick to reassure her sister. "All will be well, Lizzy. Can you imagine _anyone_, least of all our father, saying 'no' to Mr. Darcy?"

Elizabeth laughed, and the tension dissolved. Jane stood and Elizabeth began picking the threads that had stuck to the back of her gown. "You're right, of course. I cannot help but imagine the worst. I just hope that Fitzwilliam was spared meeting Mama."

Jane gave her sister a sympathetic look, plucking a stray thread from her gown.

Mrs. Gardiner entered the drawing room, her eyes wild, a letter clutched in her white-knuckled grip. She paused before her two nieces, her lips working but no sound escaped.

Elizabeth and Jane exchanged looks of alarm at their aunt's agitated behavior.

"Aunt? What is it?" Elizabeth glanced at the letter. "Is that from Longbourn?"

"Oh, my dears, it is terrible!"

Elizabeth's face drained of color, her thoughts immediately flying towards Longbourn and her family. Had something happened to her father? Sisters? Mother? Her heart stuttered. What if something happened to Fitzwilliam?

"Please, Aunt!" Elizabeth cried desperately. "Who is the letter from?"

Mrs. Gardiner looked from one niece to the other, her gaze lingering on Jane. Elizabeth looked at Jane before turning her gaze back to her aunt, noting her expression was full of remorse and... fear? Elizabeth's heart dropped and suddenly she knew. She reached out to grasp Jane's hand, offering her strength, praying desperately that her assumption was wrong.

Mrs. Gardiner reached out, grasping Jane's free hand. "You must be brave, my dear. I just received this letter from Eleanor." She paused, her eyes moist as she met Jane's wide-eyed gaze. "Colonel Fitzwilliam is being sent back to the Iberian Peninsula."

A small gasp escaped Jane's lips. Elizabeth closed her eyes, squeezing her sister's hand.

"I am so sorry, my dear."

Jane sank down onto the sofa, her face strangely blank. "When?" she whispered.

Mrs. Gardiner glanced at Elizabeth before returning her gaze to Jane. Understanding her aunt's unspoken request, Elizabeth sat next to her sister, preparing herself for her aunt's response. Judging by her stricken expression, Colonel Fitzwilliam would be leaving soon.

"He left for Brighton this afternoon."

Elizabeth stared at her aunt. He was already gone? But, he hadn't spoken to Jane yet, and what about Fitzwilliam? The Colonel didn't get to say good bye to Fitzwilliam! She shook her head in disbelief, forcing herself to listen to what her aunt was saying, knowing that Jane would be incapable of focusing on her aunt's words.

"Eleanor writes that he will be in Brighton for about ten days or so training the soldiers in his regiment before traveling to Portsmouth, and from there, he'll sail to Portugal."

"How can this be, Aunt? Why is he being sent? I understood that he was to remain at the War Office," Elizabeth cried.

Mrs. Gardiner handed the crumpled letter to Elizabeth. "Read it yourself, Lizzy. I am amazed that Eleanor was able to write such a letter under the circumstances. I cannot begin to imagine what she must be feeling."

Elizabeth read Lady Eleanor's letter, shooting worried glances at her sister's continued silence. When she finished, she smoothed the letter out as best she could; Jane would want read it later. Jane stood, startling Elizabeth. Before she could utter a word, Jane had fled the room.

~oOOo~

Darcy arrived at Gardiners' town house with a heavy heart. He had fully expected to enter this house tonight triumphantly, having finally secured Elizabeth's hand. Not only had he failed in gaining Mr. Bennet's consent, but he had also returned home to find his sister distraught with unexpected and distressing news. Even now, he was finding it difficult to process what his sister had told him: Richard was gone. Darcy was no fool; he always knew that it was a possibility that Richard could still be sent to the Iberian Peninsula despite his current orders at the War Office. But he never imagined that his leaving would be so abrupt, without even time to properly say good-bye. Darcy did not consider himself an overly-sentimental man, his behavior towards Elizabeth aside, but even he could not deny the pain he had felt at realizing that he would not be able to farewell his closest friend and confidant, a man he regarded as a brother. Now he was faced with not only informing Elizabeth of his failure in securing her hand, but to inform her that his cousin had left. He knew such news would distress Elizabeth, not only for his sake but for her sister's.

Mechanically, Darcy handed his hat and gloves to Simmons, his thoughts and emotions too chaotic to focus on what the butler was saying.

"Gardiner wishes to see me?" Darcy was vaguely aware of how strangely hollow and devoid of emotion his voice sounded.

"Yes, sir."

Darcy sighed. "Very well."

Before long, Darcy found himself standing in front of a familiar oak door with no memory of walking there. He shook his head in exasperation at his state of mind as Simmons announced him. Entering the familiar room, he halted in surprise as Elizabeth stood before him, a soft smile of welcome on her face. As his gaze locked with hers, Darcy felt his tension, disappointment, and sadness dissipate.

Gardiner chuckled at the young lovers, excusing Darcy's lack of manners in greeting his host. He walked to the door, and before leaving he admonished, "Ten minutes, no more. Is that understood?"

Without breaking her gaze from her betrothed, Elizabeth answered, "Understood, Uncle."

"Darcy?"

"Ten minutes."

Gardiner eyed the two before exiting the room making sure the door was left ajar.

As soon as they were alone, Elizabeth was in Darcy's arms. As his arms encircled his beloved and gathered her close to his heart, Darcy took his first full breath since arriving at Longbourn earlier that day. He was so focused on the feel of Elizabeth in his arms it took him a moment to realize that she was speaking.

"...so sorry to hear about your cousin."

Darcy tightened his hold on Elizabeth, resting his chin on her hair. "You heard then?"

Elizabeth nodded against Darcy's chest. She ran her hand down lightly down his chest and sighed. "I am sorry that you missed seeing him before he left, Fitzwilliam. It is my fault. If I hadn't insisted that you travel..."

Darcy placed a finger over her mouth to stop her speech. "No, Elizabeth. It is not your fault. I am saddened that I didn't get to see Richard before he left, but there is nothing I can do about it now."

Elizabeth nodded and looked down, breaking his searching gaze. Darcy lifted her chin so he could see her expressive brown eyes. She could never hide what she feeling; it was always there for him to see. Her eyes were still full of remorse. How would she feel once she learned that his journey to her home had been unsuccessful? He closed his eyes, cursing Mr. Bennet for putting him in this position. For a brief moment he considered lying, if only to prevent the pain that was sure to pass through those eyes that he loved so much…eyes that should only reflect joy and peace. How could he tell her that her that the man she looked up to and respected had not yet given his consent to their marriage?

"Fitzwilliam, what is it?"

Elizabeth's soft inquiry brought him back to the present. He breathed in deeply before exhaling slowly, meeting her gaze once again. He was silent as his gaze roamed her beloved face, his eyes touching every cherished feature, noting every adored expression. Unconsciously, his hand followed the path of his eyes, gentle fingers tracing each curve and slope of her face. His fingers traced her petal-soft lips with reverence, her mouth opening as he caressed her bottom lip with his thumb.

Reading his unspoken request, she lifted her face to meet his lips in a gentle and chaste kiss. Darcy felt rather than heard Elizabeth sigh in contentment against his mouth, her hands resting on his chest over his heart. Darcy gathered Elizabeth in his arms once again, his lips caressing her temple as he sought for the right words to say.

Elizabeth must have sensed his inner struggle because she asked, "How was your trip to Longbourn?"

When he didn't answer right away, Elizabeth looked up. Her keen gaze noted his carefully controlled expression, and she stilled, her eyes widening in distress.

"My mother found out about us?"

Darcy shook his head, his hands grasping her shoulders. "No, she believed I was there for Jane, just as you said."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed. "So...all went well?"

Darcy held his breath, turning his head, unable to hold Elizabeth's penetrating gaze.

"Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth whispered. "Tell me." Her slender fingers turned his chin so she could see his face. "What happened?"

"Elizabeth…." Darcy began, exhaling loudly. He stepped away, running a hand through his hair, mentally berating himself for his delay in conveying his failure.

Comprehension slowly dawned over Elizabeth's countenance, and she moved to stand directly in front of him so she could see his face. "My father refused his consent to our marriage," she stated, her voice full of suppressed anguish and disbelief.

Darcy reached out to Elizabeth, hoping his touch more than his words would reassure her. "Not exactly." Seeing Elizabeth's confusion, he explained, "He wishes you to return home unattached. He will give his consent to our marriage a week after you return to Longbourn."

Elizabeth reared back in shock. "My father said that? What reason did he give?"

"He didn't give a reason, Elizabeth," Darcy said, his voice gentle. "I am so sorry, my love. I failed you."

Elizabeth shook her head, her expression vehement. "No, Fitzwilliam. This is not your fault." Elizabeth broke from Darcy's grasp and begin pacing, her countenance thunderous. "How could he do this?" she whispered.

Darcy remained silent as he watched Elizabeth pace around her uncle's study. He felt inadequate, not knowing how to help her through yet another betrayal from one who should have cared for her well-being and happiness. He knew in his heart that Mr. Bennet's motives in making them wait were completely selfish. Elizabeth was his favorite child, and it must gall the old man bitterly to give her to another. The more he thought about it, the less surprised he was by Mr. Bennet's spiteful behavior. He had already demonstrated his extreme selfishness at least once before-his duplicity in obtaining his heart's desire, no matter the cost to the one he professed to love when he married Fanny Gardiner. Once again, Darcy marveled that such a wondrous person as his Elizabeth could have come from two such despicable individuals.

Elizabeth stopped pacing to stand in front of the man she loved, her gaze resolute. "I once told Jane that I would choose love over my family, but I never truly believed that it would ever come to that." Elizabeth smiled wryly. "I knew my mother would never give me her blessing, but I always believed that my father would never deny me whom I had chosen to spend my life with."

Elizabeth's gaze softened as she reached up to cup Darcy's face in her small hands. "I choose you, Fitzwilliam. My complete loyalty is to you. Only you. You have proven to be a man I can trust completely, a man I can rely on. I know you will never lie to me or give me false hope."

Elizabeth's heartfelt declaration inflamed Darcy's soul, and he expressed his love and appreciation in the best way he knew how. Drawing Elizabeth into his arms, he lowered his head and kissed her, imbuing the action with all the love he felt in the depth of his soul.

Darcy rested his forehead against Elizabeth's. "I have your father's assurances that he will consent to our marriage one week after you return to Longbourn, and I _will_ hold him to his promise."

Elizabeth placed her hand over Fitzwilliam's heart, and raising her head to meet his gaze, said, "I know you will, Fitzwilliam." With an impish smile, she added, "If he doesn't, I am not opposed to absconding to Gretna Green."

Darcy's laughter joined Elizabeth's, and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief at her lighthearted teasing. Kissing her forehead, he took her hand and with reluctance led her to the study door. "Now, I believe we should return to the drawing room before your uncle comes and drags us out."

"I suppose so, although I am not looking forward to breaking the news that we are not 'officially' engaged."

"I will tell them," Darcy said, kissing Elizabeth's hand before placing it in the crook of his arm.

They descended the stairs at a sedate pace, neither wishing to give up their last few moments of solitude together.

As they approached the drawing room, Darcy asked, "How did your sister take the news?"

Elizabeth sighed. "Not well. She has been in her room all afternoon. I don't expect she will make an appearance at dinner."

Darcy nodded, unsurprised. He knew Richard would have visited Miss Bennet if he had the time. He could only imagine his cousin's state of mind, knowing he was to leave London immediately, especially since he had just resolved to pursue Miss Bennet to the altar. That fate should step in and deal so hard a hand was lamentable. He had received very little information from Georgiana when he returned to Darcy House as his sister had been too upset to be entirely intelligible. Only his sister's continued insistence that he keep his dinner appointment prevented him from spending the evening by her side. He hadn't the heart to add to her distress by informing her of his failure to secure Elizabeth's hand, a situation he would have to remedy immediately upon his return home.

As if she perceived the direction of his thoughts, Elizabeth inquired, "How is Georgiana?"

Darcy reached into his inner breast pocket, removing the letter his sister had pressed into his hand before leaving that evening, and handed it to Elizabeth. "She wrote this for you. I imagine her words could express her despair more adequately than I."

Elizabeth took the letter, turning it over in her hand. "I will be sorry to not see her before she leaves for Ramsgate tomorrow."

Darcy shook his head. "She is delaying her journey until next week. Under the circumstances, she didn't feel like traveling."

"I will invite her for tea tomorrow."

Darcy smiled. "I am certain she would appreciate seeing you. I will even find something else to occupy my time so you may visit without any distractions."

Dinner was a rather somber affair due to the news of Colonel Fitzwilliam's abrupt departure and Darcy's failure to secure Elizabeth's hand. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner attempted to liven up the conversation, but the notable absence of Jane at the dinner table and the subdued demeanor of the young couple was a constant reminder of the reason for their melancholy.

Neither gentleman wished to separate from the ladies, so the two couples adjourned to the drawing room where Mrs. Gardiner wasted no time in asking Elizabeth to play.

Darcy escorted Elizabeth to the pianoforte and took his place beside her. As she began playing from memory, he noticed her distracted air, and resolved to draw her attention away from the weighty events of the day.

Darcy placed his hand on her lower back, and leaning towards her, asked, "How did you occupy your time today?"

Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, Elizabeth smiled, grateful for the distraction from her frenzied thoughts.

"Shopping," Elizabeth replied with a long-suffering sigh. "Followed by a very interesting tea with Lady Worthington."

"Interesting? How so?"

Elizabeth didn't answer but continued playing until she finished the piece. Placing her hands in her lap she turned to him, her gaze wary. "She talked about your mother."

Darcy blinked in surprise. "Indeed? What did she say?"

"She shared memories of her. Did you know Lady Worthington was close friends with your mother?"

"No," Darcy replied, his expression thoughtful. "My mother was a very private person. She probably felt divulging her relationship with Lady Worthington was of no consequence to a young man."

Elizabeth randomly pressed the keys, her thoughts racing. Now would be a perfect opportunity to ask about his mother's artistic talent. She bit her lip, indecisive, trying to gauge Fitzwilliam's mood. He didn't appear averse to talking about his mother, but she didn't wish to press him.

"Fitzwilliam," she began, unsure how to proceed. Encouraged by the openness in Fitzwilliam's gaze she pressed forward. "Tell me about your mother's drawings."

Darcy froze. Without a word he stood, offering Elizabeth his hand. Without hesitation she placed her small hand in his. As he led her to the sofa, his thoughts were racing. It was obvious that Lady Worthington had mentioned his mother's talent to Elizabeth. Was it possible that she had told Lady Worthington about the drawing of Elizabeth? If so, why? All at once, Lady Worthington's fascination with his relationship with Elizabeth made sense. He had always attributed her uncanny gift for observation the reason for her certain knowledge of their undisclosed relationship, but now he was almost certain she _knew_. Somehow, she knew about his mother's drawing of Elizabeth. More importantly, that august lady knew that he had not yet informed Elizabeth.

Sitting beside Elizabeth, he smiled, his calm expression belied his inner turmoil. "Would you come to Darcy House tomorrow? I wish to show you something."

Elizabeth's immediate acceptance did nothing to calm his sudden nervousness. Would she understand? Would she believe him? Despite his misgivings, he would tell her all tomorrow. It was time.

A/N: Well, hi there! *waves sheepishly* My profound apologies for my long absence. I had decided to take a "little" break for the holidays but it turned into a much longer break than I anticipated. Did you know it is really hard to start writing again after a long break? So, lesson learned *nods head*

A huge thank you to all you wonderful people who reviewed and sent me PMs encouraging me to post another chapter-it seriously helped my muse :)

So, you're all probably wondering why Georgiana didn't tell Darcy about Richard's intent to ask Jane to marry him. Give the girl a break-she's distraught! But Lizzy will find out tomorrow at Darcy House. Should be a really interesting day :)

Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter. I appreciate ALL reviews (even constructive criticism) and I truly want to know what you think. You're all amazing!

Much love,

MAH


	39. Chapter 39

The incredible CassandraLowery beta'd this chapter.

Chapter 38

Darcy sat in his darkened room, his gaze fixed on the flame of a single candle flickering sporadically in the blackness. His steady breathing and the sputtering of the candle marked the passage of time. Darcy closed his eyes. Despite his physical weariness, he would not sleep this night. He turned his head and watched the shadows dance erratically on the walls, mirroring his scattered thoughts.

Darcy sighed, the sound breaking the solemn stillness. Today he would tell Elizabeth. His eyes rested on the drawing he held in his hands, a tangible reminder of his promise to Elizabeth…and to his mother. For eleven years this unknown woman had been an illusion, unattainable as a gust of wind. But the _reality_ of Elizabeth surpassed every expectation and imagined fantasy. He _knew_ the love and devotion he had for her was real and eternal. Irrespective of his mother's dream, he was left with one unassailable fact: Elizabeth was meant to be his. Would she understand? Would she believe him? His mind wandered back to earlier that evening when she had looked at him with complete trust and love as she pledged her loyalty to him. He would place his trust in her, in them. There was nothing more he could do.

Darcy set the drawing aside, allowing his thoughts to wander down paths previously eluded. The weight of memory pressed down on his heart and soul, but this time he welcomed and embraced his grief and pain. He was emotionally exhausted from trying to divert thoughts of his mother to safer channels. His mother needed to be remembered, honored, and celebrated, not relegated to the deepest recesses of his mind. She deserved better than a son who was too fearful to even speak her name. Over the years, many had tried and failed to get him to speak of Anne Darcy; only Elizabeth had not retreated when faced with his pain and stubbornness. Instead, with gentle words and unconditional love, she had invited him to face his fear and speak of his mother rather than feed him false platitudes and empty words. He knew his Elizabeth, more than any other, understood the true value of a mother's love.

The room gradually lightened, the early morning rays bathing the room in a warm glow. As the dawn light fell across his face, a feeling of peace passed through him like a blessing from heaven, leaving his mind clear and focused. Physically weary, but with a light heart he went to his writing desk to begin his daily letter to Elizabeth. His valet entered noiselessly as he pressed his signet ring to the cooling wax.

Darcy was thankful that Stephenson didn't comment on his obvious state of weariness or the fact that his bed had not been slept in. He simply went about readying his master for the coming day with a quiet efficiency. Within thirty minutes, Darcy was sitting at the small dining table to break his fast.

A short while later, Darcy sat at the desk in his study, methodically going through a pile of correspondence. He sighed as he read another letter from his steward. Although the man was extremely competent, Darcy could tell by the increasing number of letters that he was becoming anxious at his master's long absence. He had never before been away from Pemberley for so long, and he missed his ancestral home. The only reason he remained in London was for Elizabeth. He mentally calculated the soonest he could make the four day journey to Derbyshire. Assuming Mr. Bennet kept his promise and consented to his marriage to Elizabeth a week after her arrival at Longbourn, the earliest they could marry would be the end of June. He smiled in satisfaction; Elizabeth would see Pemberley during the height of summer.

He completed the letter to his steward before picking up the next in the slowly decreasing pile. Seeing it was from Dr. Brown, his family physician, he eagerly opened it and read the short message. He had contacted Dr. Brown to ask him to consult on Williamson's case and assess his condition. Darcy didn't know if anything more could be done for the man, but he felt compelled to act after meeting him and hearing his sad history. He wanted to ensure that Williamson was receiving the best possible care. He wished to see him relocated to a better place, but he would deal with that issue later. Williamson's health was more pressing that his deplorable living conditions. He tapped Dr. Brown's letter with his forefinger, lost in thought. He needed to handle this delicately; he had no desire to offend the man's pride. He finally decided that complete honesty would be best. As he finished up the letter to Williamson, Fletcher knocked and entered, his expression apologetic. Darcy suppressed a sigh. He disliked being interrupted unless absolutely necessary.

"Lady Worthington to see you, sir."

Darcy's brows raised in astonishment. Apparently, Lady Worthington's eccentricities included making social calls before nine in the morning. He supposed gossip couldn't wait, he thought wryly. He stood and bowed, fixing a polite but distant smile on his face as the lady entered in a flurry of burgundy and yellow.

Lady Worthington nodded a greeting and arranged herself in his favorite chair by the fireplace with much ceremony. She craned her neck, and gesturing to the chair opposite, commanded, "Sit."

Darcy's smile faded to be replaced with an indignant frown at being treated like an errant boy and in his own home. He swallowed back a retort and obeyed, knowing that Lady Worthington would not be gainsaid. He waited for her to speak, meeting her gaze with raised brows.

Lady Worthington smirked. She adjusted her shawl around her shoulders before saying, "I believe you have questions for me."

Darcy blinked once as he regarded the woman who sat calmly across from him. Yes, he had questions, but only one was important.

"Why did you tell Elizabeth about my mother's drawings?"

"Because you have not."

Darcy's eyes flashed with anger at the woman's presumption. "It was not your place, my lady."

Lady Worthington snorted. "That's where you're wrong, my dear boy. I made a promise to your mother which I intend to keep."

Darcy struggled to hide his surprise. "What did you promise?"

"To ensure that you informed Elizabeth."

Darcy exhaled slowly. He had also made a promise to his mother which he had every intention of keeping. He knew why his mother felt it was necessary to inform his future wife of the drawing and how it came to be, and he agreed. He didn't wish to start his marriage to Elizabeth with secrets. He felt a mixture of anger and sadness that his mother had felt it necessary that another be told, that she had not trusted him to keep his word.

Darcy's expression was imperturbable. "I am going to tell her."

"What are you waiting for?" she asked, her tone curious.

Darcy glanced away from Lady Worthington's knowing gaze. What did she know about his relationship with Elizabeth? He had waited for a reason. Trust didn't come easily to Elizabeth because of the lack of relationship with her mother, and it had negatively affected her self-worth. Understanding this truth about the woman he loved, he had resolved to gain her trust before telling her. He wanted Elizabeth to _know_, without any doubt, that he loved her. Now, faced with Lady Worthington's prying questions, he was plagued with uncertainty. What if he had waited too long? Would she see this as another betrayal of trust? As soon as these negative thoughts invaded his mind, he felt the same feeling of peace from that morning settle over him, replacing his fear with hope.

Darcy replied, his tone stiff and formal, "There are extenuating circumstances which have prevented me from disclosing my mother's dream and drawing to Elizabeth, but…."

Lady Worthington's loud laughter cut through the awkward tension of the room like a ray of sunlight in an overcast sky.

She leaned forward, gasping as she caught her breath, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Oh, my dear boy. That formal rigidity does not work with me." She wiped tears of laughter from her eyes before stating bluntly, "You're afraid."

Darcy clenched his jaw, the only sign that he was affected by her words. "I will tell Elizabeth. That is all you need to know. Your promise is fulfilled."

Lady Worthington considered his words then nodded, satisfied. "I have one other duty to carry out before we talk of other things."

Darcy settled back in his chair and waited. He knew he was acting contemptibly, but he was irritated with Lady Worthington and her intrusiveness into something that was intensely private and personal. His mother had obviously trusted the woman sitting across from him, but he didn't. There was a reason he had only ever told Richard and Georgiana about his mother's drawing of Elizabeth. He nodded for Lady Worthington to proceed.

Lady Worthington pursed her lips, her keen eyes assessing him. Darcy remained unaffected, his expression composed.

"Have you read your mother's journals?"

Darcy inhaled sharply. The nerve of the woman! He didn't care that Lady Worthington had been a close acquaintance of his mother; she had no right to ask such a personal question. His mind conjured up a picture of him sitting beside his mother at her writing desk, the scratching of her pen the only sound in the quiet room. She had written daily in her journal. As a young boy, the constancy of that act was as calming as the steady flow of words on a blank page. He remembered sitting beside her, watching as she filled the journal pages with her clear and beautiful script. He had been convinced that she couldn't write unless he was there to mend her pen. She had recognized from his early years that he needed to feel wanted, important, and useful. It was not until he was much older that he realized what she had been doing, and he had loved her all the more for it. He exhaled slowly, gently pushing the memory and its accompanying ache away to be examined at a later time.

"Forgive me, my lady, but I don't see how my mother's journals are any business of yours." Darcy's voice was laced with warning. Her questions were intrusive and unwelcome, and his forbearance was running thin.

Lady Worthington tilted her head, studying him as if she found him to be a rare and interesting specimen. It was unnerving. Her gaze remained fixed on his, assessing, calculating. Darcy forced himself to remain calm; he would give nothing away. The last thing he wished was to become an object of speculation and gossip.

Her gaze softened, and she sighed. "You haven't. I would ask why, but I imagine I would receive no answer. So, I will simply ask that you read them because she wished it." She paused. "I imagine young Miss Darcy would like to read them as well."

Darcy heard the slight reproach in Lady Worthington's voice and felt a wave of shame. All his mother's things had been packed away and placed in the attics of Pemberley and Darcy House, including her journals. Over the past eleven years, not once had it occurred to him to give his mother's journals or any of her other belongings to Georgiana. He had thought only of himself and his own pain. His shame grew as he recalled all the times that Georgiana had asked about his mother, and he had brushed her off, unwilling to face his own grief. He resolved to be more open and honest with his sister. He may not be ready to read his mother's words, but he would give the journals to Georgiana.

"Thank you, Lady Worthington. I will see that she gets them." He stood, signaling the end of the visit.

Unsurprisingly, she ignored his subtle hint. He knew she was forthright, so he would be as well. "Thank you for your visit, Lady Worthington. Fletcher will see you out." He moved to ring for his butler, but she remained sitting, settling herself more comfortably in his chair with a benevolent smile on her face.

He suppressed a sigh, and asked, "Was there something else you wished to discuss?"

Lady Worthington raised a brow. "As a matter of fact, there is." She glanced at the chair he had vacated. "You may wish to sit down for this."

This time, Darcy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. She waited until he had resumed his seat before saying, "Lady Emily is spreading rumors about you, Miss Bennet, and Miss Elizabeth."

It took all of Darcy's self-control to not react violently at such news. In a voice deadly calm, he asked, "What exactly is…_that woman_ saying?" He barely refrained from calling her a "spiteful harpy."

Lady Worthington hesitated before replying. "That you wished to marry Miss Bennet, but she rebuffed your advances in preference to your cousin, so you…settled for Miss Elizabeth instead." She paused at the look of fury on Darcy's face. "That bit has been circulating since Wednesday. The newest gossip is that you had a hand in your cousin being sent back to the Iberian Peninsula as a form of revenge. As he left so suddenly…." Her voice trailed off, and she averted her eyes, unable to hold Darcy's furious gaze.

Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing heavily as he attempted to contain his anger. Curse that woman to the deepest pit of Hades, he thought viciously. He should not be so surprised that Richard's departure was a source of gossip. His sudden leaving was unusual, but not unheard of. No doubt the majority of society's finest forgot that they were even at war insofar as it didn't affect their comfortable and degenerate lifestyles. It was as if that woman had just been waiting for such an event to occur to give her vicious rumor a hint of truth. No doubt the gossip-mongering busybodies would descend on Matlock House today to determine the veracity of the rumor.

"This is why it is imperative that you announce your engagement to Miss Elizabeth at my ball, Darcy. I will refute the rumors, of course, but actions will speak louder than words, especially in this instance. You spoke with Mr. Bennet yesterday, did you not?" Lady Worthington nodded once in satisfaction. "I know you hate to be on display, but under the circumstances I see no better way to quell the rumors."

Darcy dug his fingers into the fine leather of his armchair, cursing Mr. Bennet again under his breath. "There will be no announcement, my lady," Darcy ground out through his teeth.

Lady Worthington straightened, her eyes flashing, ready to do battle. "Now, Darcy. Think of your Miss Elizabeth…."

Darcy stood, resting both hands on the mantel, his head bowed. As loathe as he was to disclose his failure, he knew she would be relentless until she knew why. "Mr. Bennet refused to give his consent to our marriage until after Elizabeth returns home. I am afraid it is out of my control, my lady."

When she didn't respond, Darcy turned to see Lady Worthington's mouth gaping, her eyes wide with disbelief. She worked her mouth for a moment, and Darcy braced himself for the tirade that was sure to come. He was not disappointed.

"Well!" she huffed indignantly. "Of all the imbecilic, bird-witted things to do! What can that man be thinking? I have half a mind to march straight to Hertfordshire and give him a piece of my mind."

A trace of amusement crossed Darcy's face at the image of Lady Worthington giving Mr. Bennet a dressing down. He would pay good money to see that.

Lady Worthington stood and began pacing, her brows lowered in concentration, lips moving silently. She'd occasionally pause and look up, an intense look on her face before resuming her circuit around his study.

Darcy watched Lady Worthington's frantic pacing with growing alarm. "I don't see why a formal announcement needs to be made. You are not a relation to Elizabeth or myself, so it will not be expected. I believe a word in the right ear of our intent to marry will be sufficient. I don't plan on leaving her side all evening, so that will dispel any rumor that I…_settled_," he spat out the word as if he tasted something vile, "for Elizabeth."

Lady Worthington continued to pace, oblivious to his speech. Darcy suppressed a sigh, his thoughts turning to the very satisfying and deserved "cut" he planned to give Lady Emily at the ball. If Lady Worthington wished for _action_, she would have it. Perhaps he'd disclose Lord Sefton's financial troubles in the right ear and watch the fallout, and he would do so without a trace of guilt. Rumors involving himself bothered him little, but woe be to anyone who disparaged Elizabeth or her sister.

Lady Worthington paused in her pacing, giving him her full attention, her expression exultant. "Do you have the Bride Necklace here at Darcy House?"

Darcy looked at Lady Worthington, a slow smile gracing his face. Of course. It was perfect. The Bride Necklace had been in the Darcy family for three generations. His father had gifted it to his mother shortly after they had been engaged. She had worn it at the next ball of the season, declaring to all of London Society that she had accepted Mr. George Darcy's hand in marriage. It had been more effective than an announcement in _The Times_.

"I believe it is, my lady."

"If Miss Elizabeth were to wear that necklace to my ball, it would more than dispel the rumors. Everyone will know exactly what it means, and they would not believe that you would give it to anyone but the woman you love." Lady Worthington rubbed her hands together in glee. "This will be much better, oh yes, much better."

She resumed her pacing, muttering under her breath. Darcy waited patiently, feeling a wave of gratitude towards the eccentric woman who was currently wearing a path in his carpet. Although he didn't have Mr. Bennet's permission, he didn't have his refusal either, so he would feel no guilt in gifting Elizabeth the Bride Necklace. It heralded his intent to marry Elizabeth, nothing more. He would give it to her after he told her about the drawing.

"You will meet her at the ball. Be sure to arrive first so you can go right to her…."

Darcy raised his hand to halt her speech. "With all due respect, my lady, I will escort Elizabeth to the ball."

Lady Worthington huffed. "You have no sense of the dramatic, Darcy. Imagine how romantic it will be as you cut through the guests to go to her side, your eyes only for her. You will kiss her hand, and then…" she leveled a pointed look at Darcy, "you will escort her into the ballroom where you will of course dance the first set. That will set the tongues wagging, you mark my words."

Darcy mentally rolled his eyes. With Lady Worthington's flair for the dramatic, he believed she had missed her true calling in life…as a stage actress. He conceded to her plan after arguing for some minutes. He had never met a more stubborn, opinionated woman than Lady Worthington. But he had to give her credit, it was a brilliant plan. As much as he hated being put on display and being made a spectacle, for Elizabeth he would do so willingly. It was no hardship to show all of London's finest his adoration for the woman who would be his wife.

Lady Worthington cleared her throat. "Before I go, may I see Anne's drawing of Miss Elizabeth?"

~oOOo~

Elizabeth was greeted by brother and sister as she entered the marbled foyer of Darcy House. Before she could utter a word, Georgiana had grabbed her hand and with a breathless, "Excuse me, brother," pulled Elizabeth toward the stairs.

Elizabeth glanced behind her to see Fitzwilliam's resigned expression. She bestowed an apologetic smile before Georgiana's strong grip on her hand propelled her up the stairs and out of sight.

Elizabeth quirked a smile at Georgiana's forceful behavior. As anxious as she was to discover what Fitzwilliam wished to show her, she could not deny that Georgiana had great need of her as well.

As soon as they entered Georgiana's private sitting room, she turned, keeping hold of Elizabeth's hand in a vice-like grip. "My brother told me about his visit to Longbourn."

Elizabeth sighed and squeezed Georgiana's hand. "I don't know why my father is being so difficult, Georgiana. But please don't worry; all will work out. You will have me for a sister, I promise." Elizabeth bestowed what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

Georgiana didn't answer but gave Elizabeth a searching look. "Is this why Brother doesn't wish me to ask about your family?"

Elizabeth blinked, unsure how to respond. Georgiana had known nothing but love and complete acceptance from her family; Elizabeth didn't know how to explain the abnormality of her own. Misinterpreting Elizabeth's silence as discomfort, Georgiana hurriedly apologized.

"Don't be. It is true that my family life is…different, but I don't believe this is what you wish to talk about. Am I correct?" Elizabeth bit her lip, hoping her subterfuge would be successful. She didn't wish to lie to Georgiana, but she didn't believe her tender heart could handle the truth about her home life.

Georgiana sat on the sofa, motioning for Elizabeth to sit beside her. Gone was the apprehensive fifteen-year-old, replaced with a young woman quivering with suppressed excitement. "What was Jane's response to my cousin?"

Elizabeth stared at Georgiana in confusion. She thought that Fitzwilliam would have informed his sister of Jane's despondency with the Colonel's departure. "Jane didn't see Colonel Fitzwilliam. We were out when he called."

Georgiana covered her mouth, her eyes wide with distress. "But…but…he was going to ask Jane to marry him!"

Elizabeth's mouth opened in shock. Could it be? She reached over, clasping Georgiana's hand. "Are you certain? Absolutely certain that was his intent?"

Georgiana nodded her head. "Oh yes, I am quite certain. It was the last thing he told me before he left. I was so happy for them." Her expression fell. "If Jane was not there then he didn't see her, and now he is gone. Oh Lizzy, it is too horrible!"

Elizabeth was reeling with this unexpected but very welcome news. She had not seen or spoken to Jane since she had fled the drawing room after hearing the news of Colonel Fitzwilliam's abrupt departure. She couldn't begin to understand her sister's distress, knowing the man she loved was gone without a word. Jane must believe that he cared nothing for her! If she could tell Jane of the Colonel's intentions, she would know that he did love her. But why hadn't the Colonel left his calling card?

Elizabeth stood, desperate to see her sister. She couldn't bear Jane not knowing Colonel Fitzwilliam's intentions.

Georgiana looked up, startled at Elizabeth's sudden movement. "Lizzy? What is it?"

"Forgive me, Georgiana, but I need to talk to Jane immediately. She needs to know…."

Georgiana reached for a small package on the table beside her, pressing it into Elizabeth's hand. "Of course. Here, this is for you. I know it's not much, but I wanted to thank you for speaking to Fitzwilliam about Mother." She stood, an excited gleam in her eyes. Walking over to her writing desk, she retrieved a small, leather bound book. "Fitzwilliam gave this to me today," she said, handing the book to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth looked from the wrapped package in one hand to the book in the other. "Which would you like me to open first?" she asked with a small laugh.

Georgiana grinned sheepishly. Pointing to the wrapped package, she said, "This one."

Elizabeth sat, placing the book beside her. The gift was a white linen handkerchief, edged with the most exquisite piece of lace Elizabeth had ever seen. In one corner were the initials: ED. Elizabeth drew a shaky breath at seeing her soon-to-be monogram.

"I hope I'm not being too presumptuous with the initials. But I know you will soon be my sister so it's not entirely inappropriate…."

Elizabeth laughed, covering Georgiana's hand with her own to stem the young girl's rambling. "I love it, Georgiana. It was very thoughtful of you. Thank you."

Georgiana beamed. "I don't know what you said to Fitzwilliam, but he gave me that book today."

Curious, Elizabeth reached over and picked up the small, black book. She opened it to the first page and began to read. Her lips parted in surprise. "Your mother kept a journal?"

Georgiana nodded, her eyes bright with happiness. "This is the only one Fitzwilliam could find here. He said the rest are at Pemberley." She hugged herself, sighing happily. "Do you have any idea how I feel? To have my mother's words; it's like she's speaking to me."

"I am glad, Georgiana. Have you read any of it yet?"

Georgiana shook her head, taking the book from Elizabeth. "No, Brother gave it to me shortly before you arrived." She casually thumbed through the journal. "Oh! Look!" She placed the open journal in Elizabeth's lap. "My mother drew Fitzwilliam." She pointed to a drawing of a young boy playing with a ball on the floor. Although the sketch was small, the detail was exquisite.

"Lady Worthington told me that your mother was a gifted artist. I see she was correct." Elizabeth turned another page revealing another sketch of Fitzwilliam, this time sitting in a chair.

"Lady Worthington told you?"

Elizabeth turned to look at Georgiana, surprised by the trepidation she heard in her young friend's voice. "Yes. Yesterday, we went to Worthington House for tea. She asked if Fitzwilliam had shown me any of Lady Anne's drawings. Now I understand why."

Elizabeth turned another page, hoping to see more. They were really quite remarkable. She was no artist, but even her untrained eye could clearly see that Anne Darcy had a rare talent. She glanced at Georgiana from the corner of her eye. She didn't wish to overstep her bounds by perusing something that Georgiana had not yet had a chance to read, especially since it was her mother's private journal. She was startled to see that Georgiana's face was pale, her eyes wide with shock as she stared at Elizabeth.

"Georgiana?" Elizabeth closed the book. "What is it?"

Georgiana shook her head, breaking Elizabeth's gaze. "I'm sorry. Did you say _Lady_ _Worthington_ told you to ask Fitzwilliam to show you my mother's drawings?"

Elizabeth nodded, confused by Georgiana's reaction. "Yes, that's correct. Fitzwilliam asked me here today to show me your mother's drawings. He acted as if it was important."

"Fitzwilliam is showing you Mother's drawing today?" she squeaked.

"Yes," Elizabeth answered slowly. She turned so she was facing Georgiana. "Is there a reason why he should not show me the drawings?"

"No!" Georgiana protested. "No, of course not. In fact, you need to go to him right now." Georgiana pulled Elizabeth to her feet and began dragging her to the door.

Elizabeth laughed. "Stop, Georgiana! I wish to see Fitzwilliam, but I really need to see Jane."

Georgiana shook her head. "No, you must see Fitzwilliam now, Lizzy."

Elizabeth sighed as she was dragged for the second time that day by a very insistent young woman. She would explain to Fitzwilliam why she needed to see Jane without delay. He would understand.

Georgiana knocked on Fitzwilliam's study door, fidgeting impatiently as she waited for his expected response. When it was not forthcoming, she knocked again. Nothing. She huffed in exasperation. She looked at Elizabeth, her expression uncertain.

"Georgiana, I will leave a note for your brother. I really need to see Jane."

"No, please! Lizzy, you must talk to Fitzwilliam. You need to see…you need to understand…Oh! Please, just trust me."

Georgiana's insistent entreaty made Elizabeth pause. "Very well, Georgiana. Let's go find Fitzwilliam."

Georgiana opened the study door, tentatively peering around the door before pushing it wide open. "He's not here. Wait here and I'll go and find him." As Elizabeth entered the study, Georgiana gave her a pointed look. "Promise that you won't leave."

"I promise." Elizabeth made a shooing motion with her hands. "Now, go and find your brother."

Elizabeth stood just inside the door, biting her lip. She knew Fitzwilliam would not mind her being here, but she still felt uncomfortable invading his private space, his sanctuary. She wandered over to the bookshelf by his desk to peruse his collection. The only other time she had been in this room was the night of his birthday…Elizabeth blushed as she recalled what had occurred right before quitting this room in front of this bookshelf. Although her kiss had been spontaneous and awkward, that split-second moment of decision had been a turning point for Elizabeth. It was not the first time that she had been vulnerable in front of him, but it had been the first time that she had placed her complete trust in him. She had taken a leap of faith, hoping that he would protect and guard her heart: a heart that was already irrevocably his.

Elizabeth ran her fingertips along the spines, pausing at the book she had gifted him for his birthday, _The Gentlemen's Book of Etiquette: Rules for Perfect Conduct_. It was obvious that he had not been reading it like he should. She smiled mischievously. She would have to remedy that situation. She sighed and turned away, her eyes drawn to the massive mahogany desk in front of her. Everything was in immaculate order, not a paper or book was out of place. In the center of the desk lay a partially wrapped parcel, the linen cloth draped over half, leaving a portion exposed. At first glance, it appeared to be a picture of some kind as she could clearly see a gilded frame. She stepped closer, her curiosity roused. Without a thought of whether she should or even had the right to do so, she reached forward and drew the linen cloth from the frame.

Elizabeth gazed down at a drawing of a woman. Unblinking, she struggled to make sense of what she was seeing. She closed her eyes, convinced they must be playing tricks on her. She opened them and was confronted with reality. Although she had seen but two small sketches, the drawing was obviously done by Anne Darcy, the style was unmistakable. The detail was so vivid, so real, the woman seemed to leap right off the page. Elizabeth breathed deeply, the steady rhythm keeping her calm as she tried to rationalize what she was seeing. But there could be no mistake. As improbable as it was, the drawing was of _her_. As realization set in, she felt blood rushing in her ears, the linen cloth falling forgotten to the floor, released from numb fingers.

Elizabeth's hands trembled, her heart beating furiously as she reached to pick up the drawing, her eyes searching for confirmation of what she already knew to be true. She found it. Near the bottom right hand corner were the initials, AFD, and below it a date, 1801. Her fingers hovered over the initials. Anne Fitzwilliam Darcy. Elizabeth felt incapable of coherent or logical thought in that moment. Her mind refused to settle, bouncing around from one unanswered question to the next.

She almost didn't hear it, a sound so low it could barely be heard above the blood rushing in her ears and the furious beating of her heart. It was a sound she would recognize anywhere, spoken by the most wonderful voice in the world. She looked up to see Fitzwilliam standing in front of her, calling her name.

A/N: I know, I know, I'm Evil for ending it there. It's a sickness. I just can't seem to help myself :) So, any ideas on what Elizabeth is going to say, or not say to Darcy? Will she hear him out? Yell? Accuse him? Run away? How about that nasty Lady Emily? Thought she had disappeared, didn't ya? I think she needs a smack down á la Caroline Bingley, don't you?

Once again, thank you so much for your support, appreciation, feedback, and encouragement. Every single review, follow, and favorite feeds my muse.

Much love,

MAH


	40. Chapter 40

A huge thank you to my exceptional beta, CassandraLowery.

_Elizabeth's hands trembled, her heart beating furiously as she reached to pick up the drawing, her eyes searching for confirmation of what she already knew to be true. She found it. Near the bottom right hand corner were the initials, AFD, and below it a date, 1801. Her fingers hovered over the initials. Anne Fitzwilliam Darcy. Elizabeth felt incapable of coherent or logical thought in that moment. Her mind refused to settle, bouncing around from one unanswered question to the next. _

_She almost didn't hear it, a sound so low it could barely be heard above the blood rushing in her ears and the furious beating of her heart. It was a sound she would recognize anywhere, spoken by the most wonderful voice in the world. She looked up to see Fitzwilliam standing in front of her, calling her name._

Chapter 39

Elizabeth stared at Fitzwilliam, her gaze unfocused until her eyes were drawn, as if against her will, to the drawing clutched in her hand; staring at her perfect likeness until her eyes watered, aching to blink. Her world had shrunk to a single piece of paper. Amidst fractured thoughts, the tightness in her chest became unbearable, and she gasped, struggling for breath, the sound loud in the stillness of the room. Her emotions were in a tumult, alternating between disbelief, shock, and confusion with an undercurrent of fear running just below the surface, threatening to erode her trust in Fitzwilliam. Questions rose in her mind like waves, tumbling over each other for dominance. One question ascended above the others, rising to the forefront of her mind…

How was this possible?

"Elizabeth," Fitzwilliam called her again, his voice resonating deeply within her.

She raised her eyes to meet Fitzwilliam's, and in his clear, determined stare she became anchored, grounded. As he held her in his gaze, her thoughts became clear and focused, her emotions settling to a dull roar. She took a deep breath, the tightness in her chest easing slightly.

"Elizabeth, come and sit." He gently pried the framed drawing from her grasp and taking her by the elbow, he led her to the sofa.

He sat close beside her, his body facing her, their knees touching. The physical contact was comforting; it was safe, known. The tightness in her chest eased a little more.

"I apologize that you saw this as you did." Fitzwilliam's fingers ghosted over the drawing. "It was not my intent."

"You wished to keep this from me?" Elizabeth cried, her voice filled with accusation.

"No," he answered quickly. "No, of course not." Fitzwilliam's calm reassurance soothed her simmering indignation. "This is why I invited you here today, to show you the drawing and explain how it came to be." He placed the drawing aside, reaching for her hands, he began rubbing circles on the backs of her hands with his thumbs as his eyes fixed on the movement. He squeezed her hands once before lifting his head. "Will you listen to what I have to say?"

Fitzwilliam's earnest plea gave her pause. It was such a simple request, yet a difficult one. She wanted to assail him with questions and demand answers. She took a moment to study him as he sat so grave and silent before her. She could feel his tension in the clasp of his hands in hers and in the tenseness of his shoulders. His expression was carefully controlled and guarded, a clear indication that he was uneasy. He was nervous, not because of what he wanted to tell her, but because of her reaction. As she came to this realization, she felt her anxiety recede.

"I will listen to whatever you have to say."

Fitzwilliam bestowed a brief smile, his relief palpable. He took a deep breath before exhaling slowly, gathering his courage. He stared into her eyes with such intensity of feeling that she held her breath in anticipation.

"My mother drew your picture."

Elizabeth exhaled forcibly, letting his statement sink into her mind, reinforcing what she already knew to be true, as incredulous as it was to her rational mind. "I know."

Fitzwilliam blinked in shock. "How could you know?"

"There are sketches of you in your mother's journal." Elizabeth saw a flash of surprise cross Fitzwilliam's face before his expression turned contemplative. "The style is the same as the drawing…of…me." She stumbled over the words, her eyes involuntary straying to the drawing next to Fitzwilliam. "She was very talented."

"Yes, she was," he replied, his tone reverent.

Elizabeth waited for Fitzwilliam to continue, but he sat still and rigid as stone. She bit her lip against the questions that were growing so loud inside her that she felt the force of her thoughts could reach Fitzwilliam. The silence stretched out, settling over them like a heavy fog until Elizabeth felt smothered with words unspoken. Just when she could not take the silence any longer, he spoke.

"My mother was blessed with dreams of the future." Fitzwilliam watched her closely as he spoke, unsurprised at her incredulity. "I know how it sounds, but it is true."

Fitzwilliam squeezed her hands once and arose. "I have something else to show you."

Fitzwilliam walked with swift steps to his wall safe and removed something from inside. When he turned and walked back to her, Elizabeth saw that he held a single piece of paper, the edges tattered and worn from frequent handling. He looked at it for a brief moment before handing it to her.

Elizabeth held the paper gingerly in her open palms, conscious of its fragile state. She stared down at a man, a small smile gracing his handsome features. She would guess his age to be near Fitzwilliam's, around twenty-seven or twenty-eight. There were subtle differences, but the resemblance between father and son were unmistakable. She searched for initials, unsure if it was drawn by Anne Darcy. Although the style was similar, the rendering was unpolished, almost juvenile in nature.

"My mother drew this when she was fourteen." Fitzwilliam took the drawing from her, placing it on a nearby table. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together, elbows resting on his knees. "For several months she dreamt of my father. At first it was just brief glimpses accompanied with feelings of peace and contentment. But it changed when her father died unexpectedly." He swallowed hard, a frown brushing across his forehead.

Elizabeth placed her hand on Fitzwilliam's back, hoping the small gesture would offer a measure of comfort as he revisited his own grief.

Fitzwilliam sat up, grasping her hand tightly in his before continuing. "In her pain and despair, my mother prayed, asking God to send comfort in her hour of need." He took a deep breath before continuing, his voice measured and sure. "In answer to her prayer, she began seeing my father in more detail. My mother believed that God sent the dream of my father to give her hope, something to cling to in her darkest hour."

Elizabeth remained silent as she pondered this new revelation. Was it possible? Although she had never heard of such a thing happening before, she readily admitted that her knowledge of such things was limited. Mary would know, and she'd have much to say on the subject. In that moment, she missed her younger sister acutely. She desperately needed her wise counsel and thoughtful insights right now.

"My mother knew that the man of whom she dreamt was her future husband. So she waited. Three years later she met my father during her first London season. They were married less than a year later." Fitzwilliam paused, his eyes searching her face, determining her state of mind. "My mother dreamt of you less than a week before she died."

"Your mother saw me in a dream?" Elizabeth spoke slowly, deliberately as if speaking the words would make them more believable.

Fitzwilliam regarded her with a solemn expression. "Yes."

"Why?" she whispered.

"Because you are my future, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth lowered her head, gathering her thoughts. She felt as if she were adrift in a sea of uncertainty. What did this all mean? She could feel the intensity of Fitzwilliam's focus on her face, tangible as a caress. Several heartbeats later, she lifted her eyes to meet his, the fervency in his gaze driving his words straight to her soul. Her mind drifted back to when they had first met, and then to each interaction since. Most of her memories were clear, straight lines; a few were blurred and smudged around the edges like a drawing, overshadowed by her emotions. Yet one particular memory would always stand out crisp and clear in her memory.

"It was me you were searching for that night at the ball."

Fitzwilliam nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "I have waited for you for nearly eleven years."

Elizabeth's unanswered questions rose up again, threatening to pour out of her like a flood, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake. She resisted the urge until the pressure became too much, and she stood, pacing the carpet in front of Fitzwilliam. He remained seated and silent, watching her with patient understanding. She continued pacing, fighting her tumultuous emotions and her insatiable need to know.

Fitzwilliam stood, grasping her by the shoulders. "Ask me, Elizabeth." His voice was gentle, but firm.

Silence ensued. Elizabeth closed her eyes as if reaching for words, wrapping the stillness around her like a protective garment. "Did you choose me, Fitzwilliam?" Her voice was strong and unwavering despite her growing doubts and fear. She took a deep breath, opening her eyes to meet his gaze. "Do you love me of your own free will or simply because your mother saw me in a dream?" Her voice wavered, and she swallowed back the sudden lump in her throat.

Fitzwilliam gazed at her as if he could peer into the very depths of her soul. He took her hand and said simply, "Come."

Confused, Elizabeth allowed Fitzwilliam to lead her to a door hidden by the drapery. In moments they were outside, standing in the small garden behind Darcy House. Elizabeth blinked in the bright afternoon sunshine.

Without a word, Fitzwilliam led her to a man who she assumed was the gardener. Elizabeth looked around the beautiful garden as Fitzwilliam spoke to the gardener in a voice inaudible to her ears. The gardener bowed and left, entering a small greenhouse adjacent to the house.

Elizabeth looked at Fitzwilliam, brow raised in silent inquiry. He smiled and squeezed her hand. Moments later the gardener returned. In one hand he carried a young sapling, its roots covered in a burlap sack, a shovel in the other. Elizabeth's confusion grew.

"Thank you, Foss."

Mr. Foss placed the sapling on the ground, handing the shovel to Fitzwilliam before bowing and retreating to resume his previous task.

"Do you know what this is, Elizabeth?" Fitzwilliam asked.

Elizabeth studied the sapling, recognizing it immediately. "An oak sapling," she answered, reaching out to touch a tender leaf with a trembling hand. Her eyes began to burn as a strong wave of emotion swept over her. Just two days ago Fitzwilliam had promised to plant an oak tree in this very garden, a symbol of their love and future life together. She had forgotten, but it was obvious that he had not, nor had wasted any time in procuring one. The significance of the moment caused her heart to beat furiously, creating a warmth that radiated out from her chest, washing over her like a warm and gentle rain, cleansing her heart of doubt and fear.

"Oak trees are very interesting," Fitzwilliam said, his voice pensive. "They are known for their strength, endurance, and longevity. But what I find so fascinating is that they thrive in adverse conditions; their roots grow stronger, deeper, when faced with difficulty."

Fitzwilliam turned to face her, his blue eyes swirling with such intense emotion that Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat. "You are the strongest soul I know, Elizabeth." Fitzwilliam's low voice traced each word lovingly like a caress. "Despite the adversity you've faced from a tender age, your soul remains pure, untainted from bitterness or resentment." He touched her cheek, the tips of his fingers gliding down her face as he spoke. "I admire your strength of character, your goodness and innocence. It angers and saddens me that you have had to face such hardship, but it has molded you into the person you are today: the woman I love with all my heart and soul."

The shovel hit the ground with a dull thud as Fitzwilliam stepped closer, cupping her face with his hands, wiping away the tears that were running down her cheeks with his thumbs. "My love for you is true and real and will endure longer than our lifetimes." He paused as if to allow time for his words to penetrate her heart and mind. "I do not love you because my mother saw you in a dream. I love you because I cannot…." Fitzwilliam's voice broke with emotion, his eyes clouded with tears. "I cannot live without you.

"I choose you, Elizabeth. I'll always choose you, without a doubt, without pause. I'll keep choosing you. Forever."

Elizabeth's heart clenched at the open vulnerability in Fitzwilliam's gaze, his emotions laid bare before her. With a sob, Elizabeth drew Fitzwilliam to her, burying her face in his chest, feeling his heart race in unison with hers. He had placed his faith and trust in her, and although her lips had promised that she would listen, her heart had betrayed him by allowing fear to replace trust, doubt to replace love. Her heart cried out at her inconstancy, her fickleness. Hadn't she just pledged her complete loyalty to him only last night?

Fitzwilliam held her in his embrace for some time, soothing her with soft words of endearment and gentle caresses. Once her tears were spent, she stepped back from the comforting circle of his arms. As soon as her eyes met his loving gaze, the last of her doubt disappeared, fear dissipating into nothing. The last remnants of the walls she had built to protect her heart shattered and fell away, leaving behind peace and contentment beyond anything she had experienced before.

"I believe you," she whispered, her eyes conveying her faith in him more eloquently than those three significant words ever could.

"Elizabeth," Fitzwilliam whispered her name in a low, reverent tone, pulling her to him with an almost urgent need. He held her so tightly that it was as if there were one heart beating between them. He lowered his head to seal their mutual understanding of complete trust with a kiss. His mouth was soft, plying her lips with gentle movements as if kissing her for the first time, then slowly gaining fervor. They stayed locked in each other's embrace, lost to everything and everyone around them but each other. Eventually they broke apart, Elizabeth laying her head on his chest, completely at peace.

"May I ask a question?" she whispered into the stillness.

"Of course, my love," Fitzwilliam answered, trailing kisses down her neck. "You may ask anything you wish."

Elizabeth closed her eyes in pure bliss, weaving her fingers in Fitzwilliam's hair to hold him at the sensitive juncture below her ear.

Fitzwilliam's teeth nibbled at her lobe, eliciting a quiet gasp. "You had a question for me?" His voice was full of suppressed mirth.

"Mmmmm….?" was Elizabeth's articulate reply.

Fitzwilliam's responding laughter was low and delicious, sliding over her skin like silk. He pulled away, kissing her nose.

Elizabeth opened her eyes to meet Fitzwilliam's amused but satisfied smile. Her face flushing under his blatant perusal, she cleared her throat, self-consciously smoothing back her hair. Fitzwilliam watched her movements with interest, a look of complete adoration on his face. When she had finished taming her hair into submission, she looked at Fitzwilliam, debating whether she really needed to know the answer to the question burning a hole in her mind.

Fitzwilliam had explained about his mother's drawing, and as fantastical as it was, she believed him. Or more significantly, she believed _in_ him. She knew that he would never lie to her, that he would always be forthright and candid. It was Fitzwilliam's unshakeable faith in her that allowed her to realize the truth of his words. He had known that she would believe him before she did. She was left with two absolute truths: that he was truly the best man she had ever known, and that she needed him more than the air she breathed.

Sensing her inner struggle, Fitzwilliam took her hand, kissing the inside of her wrist before holding her palm against his heart. "Ask your question, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth nodded, looking towards the house, her expression thoughtful. "If Lady Worthington hadn't told me about your mother's drawings, would you have told me anyway?" Elizabeth turned her gaze back to Fitzwilliam, her expression open and devoid of any lingering doubt.

Fitzwilliam kissed her inner wrist again, his eyes never leaving hers. "Yes. I had always planned on telling you."

"When?"

"After gaining your father's consent," Fitzwilliam answered without hesitation.

Elizabeth's brows lowered. "Why wait so long?"

Fitzwilliam frowned, turning his head to stare at the sapling watching the leaves moving gently in the wind. He appeared to be debating with himself as a myriad of emotions flashed across his face. Finally, he turned back to her. "Was I wrong to wait until now to tell you?"

Elizabeth drew back, surprise coloring her face at Fitzwilliam's reply. After some minutes of turning his question over in her mind, she turned away and began to pace, her brow furrowed in thought. Her initial response was, unsurprisingly, that she wished he had told her sooner. Although she had reconciled his withholding the truth from her in her heart, her mind still demanded satisfaction. He knew that she didn't like secrets being kept from her, yet he had concealed the knowledge of his mother's dream until now. Why?

There were multiple opportunities when he could have told her. The most obvious and natural time to do so would have been when he had asked to court her. As she recalled that momentous day and all that had occurred, she halted abruptly, remembering the turmoil she had experienced that day: the misunderstanding with her uncle regarding Fitzwilliam's intentions, her dismissive behavior when her aunt and Jane had assumed that Fitzwilliam was going to ask to court her. She hung her head in shame as she remembered that not once, but twice, she had assumed the worst of Fitzwilliam _after_ he had asked to court her. She shook her head in dismay. No, if he had told her then, it would have ended in disaster.

She resumed pacing, her mind frantically searching for a moment when he could have told her and she would not have reacted badly. Her mind flipped quickly through several memories: the Royal Menagerie and its aftermath, their reconciliation under the oak tree when Fitzwilliam had read her mother's letter and torn it to shreds. Unconsciously, she wrapped her arms around her waist as she recalled her mother's biting words. She inhaled sharply at how vulnerable and mistrustful she was of Fitzwilliam and his intentions in the beginning of their relationship. She had treated each day with him as if it were her last, afraid that he would come to the realization that he didn't wish to court her and would walk away. Instead, he had demonstrated in word and action how much he loved and adored her: his daily letters expressing his love and appreciation, standing by her side as she confronted her uncle, opening his heart to her by talking of his mother. Looking back, she clearly saw how with each interaction, each tender caress and word of love, Fitzwilliam had proven his constancy and trustworthiness, and like the steady fall of rain, he had slowly broken down the barriers around her heart.

Elizabeth froze as the startling truth washed over her, and she turned to face Fitzwilliam, a look of awe and gratitude on her face. "If you had told me before, I would have run."

Fitzwilliam nodded, closing the brief distance between them. "I would have followed you."

"I know." Elizabeth gave Fitzwilliam a tender smile, her hand reaching up to cradle his face tenderly. "I understand now, Fitzwilliam," she said, eyes full of wonder. "Even if your mother had not dreamt of me and told you of it, the connection that is between us would still exist. We still would have found each other because our souls, our hearts, are inextricably linked." Elizabeth stared deeply into Fitzwilliam's eyes, seeing her joy mirrored in the depths of his ardent gaze. "There could never be anyone for me but you."

Fitzwilliam cupped the back of her head, resting his forehead against hers. "Thank you, my love. You've expressed my sentiments exactly."

Elizabeth breathed in deeply, her body melting into his with a contented sigh. She had no more questions; they didn't matter. All that mattered was the love and trust that existed between hearts and minds that were in complete unity one with another.

Eventually, Fitzwilliam broke the silence. "Come, we have a tree to plant." He pressed a kiss to her temple before releasing her to pick up the shovel.

~oOOo~

Darcy couldn't contain the euphoric smile from gracing his face as he led Elizabeth to the location he had chosen to plant their tree. She had believed him! Darcy was not, by nature, a gambling man, but he had risked his heart and future happiness with the woman he loved by deliberately keeping his mother's dream from her until she was ready to hear it. He had carried the weight of that decision for weeks, constantly questioning his judgment. But each time he had felt tempted to tell her, a small voice had whispered that he wait. He had cursed that inner voice when he had entered his study and seen Elizabeth with the drawing in her hand. The expression on her face had caused his heart to freeze in his chest and shatter in pieces at his feet.

He had never prayed more fervently than during that brief pause after he had asked her to listen. He understood Elizabeth and knew if he could just have the opportunity to explain, all would be well. Elizabeth didn't know why there was such a strong connection between them; yet she knew, as he did, that what existed between them could not be fabricated or imitated; it was tangible and real.

Darcy paused at a large flower bed overflowing with brightly colored blooms. He glanced at Elizabeth and smiled at the look of bewilderment on her lovely face.

"You wish to plant the tree here, Fitzwilliam?" She looked at the teeming flower bed, a slight frown on her face. "I think over there would be more suitable." She pointed to the far corner of the garden.

"Trust me, this is the perfect location." Fitzwilliam set down the sapling and laid the shovel at his feet before wading through the flowers, grinning at Elizabeth's shocked gasp. He turned to face the back of the house, hands on hips, brows lowered in concentration. He shifted his position slightly before nodding in satisfaction, pressing down with the toe of his heavy boot, marking the spot.

He returned to the pathway and an indignant Elizabeth. As he faced her, an idea entered his head that was too good to dismiss. His lips twitched in anticipation before his carefully controlled mask fell into place. "I am in need of your assistance, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth arched a single brow, her expression still conveyed her annoyance at the ruined flowers.

"In order for me to plant this sapling, I will require full movement of my arms."

Fitzwilliam watched as she processed the information, a slight frown puckering her brow. He cleared his throat. "I will need to remove my jacket."

Her brows raised to her hairline as she flushed a becoming pink. Suppressing a smirk, Darcy turned, presenting his back to Elizabeth. He waited. She was an intelligent woman; he knew she would understand.

"You cannot be serious, Fitzwilliam," she sputtered. "You expect me to…to…remove your jacket?" Her voice reached a high-pitched squeak.

He looked over his shoulder, eyes flashing with a devilish gleam. "Come now, my love. Don't be squeamish."

He turned back around, biting back his laugh as she began to stammer. He nearly jumped when he felt Elizabeth's small fingers at the back of his neck. He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply as her fingers slid under the collar of his jacket, and with one smooth movement, she pulled his jacket down his back, catching at his elbows. Straightening his arms, he said in a decidedly unsteady voice, "Invert the sleeves."

When he felt he could face Elizabeth with some semblance of composure, he turned. "Thank you, my love. I don't know how I would have managed without you."

Elizabeth stared at him, mouth slightly agape, face flushed becomingly. Then her eyes narrowed, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Why you…you…."

Fitzwilliam burst into laughter as Elizabeth pushed his jacket against his chest. When she turned to leave, he reached out, snaking his arm around her waist. She began struggling against his hold, trying to pry his arm away from her. He leaned down, whispering in her ear, "Forgive me, my love. I could not resist." He kissed the side of her neck. Elizabeth stilled immediately.

She straightened and turned to face him, folding her arms across her chest. Her expression was curious as she perused his torso sans jacket. Slowly, her posture relaxed and her arms dropped to her sides.

"What respectable gentleman asks a lady to remove his jacket?"

Darcy raised his brows. Leaning towards her, he responded, "What respectable lady would be so bold as to remove a gentleman's jacket?"

Elizabeth bit her lip, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Touché."

Darcy took Elizabeth's hand, bestowing a kiss in the middle of her palm, then the inside of her wrist. "I apologize if I made you uncomfortable, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth cocked her head, her dark eyes flashing with good humor. "You didn't. I was simply…surprised."

"I hope I continue to surprise you, my love." He pulled her into his arms, and lowering his head he pressed his lips to hers in an ardent kiss. His heart nearly stopped when Elizabeth unexpectedly deepened their kiss, weaving her fingers into his hair. He groaned, pulling her flush against his body. She broke their kiss, an impish grin on her face.

"Did I…surprise you, Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth asked cheekily.

"Minx."

"Cad."

Darcy kissed her to stop her laugh. "I promise I will not ask you to remove my jacket again until we are married."

Elizabeth pulled away, placing her hands on the top of his shoulders before running her hands lightly down his arms, clad only in his linen shirt, her eyes tracking the movement. "Hmmm…pity."

Darcy laughed, leaning down to press one more kiss to her grinning lips. Life with Elizabeth would certainly never be dull. He reached down, picking up his discarded jacket and handed it to Elizabeth with a grin. He picked up the shovel and began digging a hole wide enough for the sapling.

"Why do you have to ruin a perfectly lovely flower bed, Fitzwilliam?"

Darcy paused, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. He held out his hand. "Come, let me show you."

Elizabeth hesitated before walking as carefully as she could through the flowers to stand next to him. He turned her to face the house. "If we plant the oak here it will be visible from every window of our private rooms." He pointed, indicating the upper windows on the right side of the house. "So every time we look out any of our windows, we will be reminded of every cherished memory that has occurred beneath your uncle's oak tree. And as it grows, we will create new memories beneath…and _in…_its branches."

Elizabeth smiled at him, her eyes suspiciously bright. "And to remind us that our love will endure and weather whatever hardships may come our way."

Darcy nodded. "Yes, exactly. I can face any adversity as long as you are by my side."

Elizabeth laid her head on Darcy's shoulder, a soft sigh escaping her lips as his arm wrapped around her waist. "We should plant forget-me-nots by the tree."

Darcy looked down at Elizabeth in surprise. "Of course, if you wish it. May I ask why?"

"They are my favorite wildflower." She looked up at him with an innocent smile, "And so you will always remember me when you see them beneath our oak."

Darcy tightened his grip around Elizabeth's waist. "That will be unnecessary, my love, as I don't anticipate us ever being apart."

Elizabeth laughed. "Not even those times when business brings you to London?"

"You will come with me, of course." He tapped her nose with his forefinger. "I meant what I said, Elizabeth. I never wish for us to be apart."

"As you wish."

As Elizabeth moved away, he said, "I only have one request."

Elizabeth raised her brow in silent inquiry.

"That the seeds come from Pemberley." His voice was soft, tinged with sadness. Elizabeth's innocent request had caused a familiar ache in his heart but not as acute as before. Forget-me-nots had been plentiful in this garden when his mother was alive, but his father had ripped them out the spring following her death during a rare visit to town. The flowers had been strewn along the pathways, crushed and broken like his father's heart…and his. He felt a swell of gratitude for Elizabeth's perceptiveness in her simple request. Even her innocuous comment that the small flower would allow him to "remember her" was a gentle reminder that it was time for his mother to be remembered and honored.

Elizabeth cupped his face, kissing his cheek tenderly. "I would not have it any other way."

Darcy squeezed Elizabeth's hand. "I wish you could have known my mother, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth bestowed a gentle smile, full of love and understanding. "But I do, Fitzwilliam. She is a part of you and of Georgiana. I imagine that from her you received your loyalty, determination, and your great capacity to love."

"And my passionate nature?" Darcy whispered low in her ear.

Elizabeth quirked a brow. "Oh, I have it on very good authority that your passionate nature comes from your father."

"Indeed? And where did you hear such a thing?"

Elizabeth looked at him expectantly, her eyes flashing with amusement.

"Lady Worthington," he stated. He shook his head. "I am beginning to think that lady has spies everywhere."

Elizabeth laughed. "I think she is simply extremely perceptive and has a firm understanding of human nature."

Darcy snorted. "She has also been blessed with extremely good luck."

"And impeccable timing."

Darcy raised his brows. "Indeed." He spied a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head in time to see a person move away from an upper story window. "I do believe we are being spied upon, Elizabeth."

"By whom?"

"I believe it was my dearest sister." Darcy frowned. He would have to talk with Georgiana about respecting other people's privacy. "No doubt she was simply curious about your reaction to our mother's dream."

"She knew?"

Darcy nodded. "Richard as well." He paused. "And I think you have deduced that Lady Worthington knew. Although I was not aware until you mentioned it last night." He rubbed his chin, his expression turning sheepish. "She paid me an early morning visit and threatened to tell you about mother's drawing if I did not."

Elizabeth blinked. "I knew there was a reason I liked her."

~oOOo~

Elizabeth hurried up the stairs, anxious to talk with Jane. Fitzwilliam had insisted on accompanying her, and Georgiana had begged and pleaded to come as well. She had argued that Elizabeth might need her help in convincing Jane of the Colonel's affections and intentions towards her. Fitzwilliam had promised to talk with Simmons regarding his cousin's visit the day before and whether he had left a message. Elizabeth only hoped that she could get Jane to open her door and listen to what she had to say. Her sister had locked herself in her room and had not been seen by a soul since the day before.

Elizabeth strode down the hallway, her eye fixed on Jane's bedroom door. So intent on her destination that she nearly collided with Sarah as she exited their shared sitting room, a tray of untouched food in her hands.

"Forgive me, Miss Lizzy." Sarah side-stepped to avoid Elizabeth.

Elizabeth reached out to steady Sarah. "It was my fault, Sarah." She eyed the tray of uneaten food with a frown. She sighed. "Has Jane eaten anything since yesterday?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, Miss Lizzy. I have tried to get her to open her bedroom door, but she won't." She leaned in to whisper, "Mistress has not been able to gain entry. I believe she is going to call the doctor if she doesn't emerge today."

"I will talk to her, Sarah. Please bring up a fresh pot of tea and some of Jane's favorite food in thirty minutes."

Sarah gave Elizabeth a dubious look but curtsied and continued on her way.

Elizabeth squared her shoulders and approached Jane's bedroom door, a determined glint in her eye. She knocked loudly, calling her sister's name. She pressed her ear to the door to see if she could hear her sister. Nothing. She knocked again, louder. "Jane, please. I have something very important to tell you." She waited. She leaned over, pressing her eye to the small keyhole in the door to see if she could see Jane. What if she had fallen ill? Or fainted from lack of food? Feeling frantic, she pounded on Jane's door. "Jane Bennet, you open this door immediately! I need to tell you that Colonel Fitzwilliam came to call on you yesterday while we were out shopping for the express purpose of asking you to marry him. Now, open this…."

The door to Jane's bedroom was flung open, depositing Elizabeth in an undignified and ungraceful heap at her sister's feet.

Elizabeth looked up at her sister, her eyes widening in dismay at Jane's appearance. She looked terrible, as if all the happiness and color had been drained from her face, leaving nothing but an empty husk behind. Her hair was in complete disarray, hanging in limp strands around her white and tear-stained face. She was wearing the same dress from the day before which was horribly wrinkled. The only spark of life was a glimmer of hope in Jane's blue eyes.

Elizabeth stood, and closing the door, took Jane gently by the elbow, leading her to the vanity. "Sit."

Jane stared at her sister. "What did you say about Richard?"

Elizabeth smiled, pleased to see some color return to Jane's wan cheeks. She gestured for Jane to sit. When her sister didn't respond, Elizabeth huffed. "Sit, and then I will tell you everything."

Jane complied immediately, staring at her sister as if she held the secrets of the universe.

Elizabeth picked up a brush and began running it though her sister's hair. As she brushed, she repeated what Georgiana had told her that afternoon.

Jane turned, grabbing her sister's hand. "Are you certain, Lizzy? Absolutely certain?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, I am absolutely certain. Georgiana is downstairs, eager to tell you herself."

Jane's eyes shone. "He wants to marry me?"

"Of course he does, Jane. A blind man could see how he feels about you."

Jane stood and embraced her sister. "Oh, Lizzy! I feared that he had changed his mind, that he had decided that he didn't care for me." She pulled away, her face ashen. "But now he is gone. What if…what if he…."

Elizabeth grabbed her sister's hand. "Don't Jane. He will return."

Jane nodded, wiping stray tears from her cheeks. "Does Mr. Darcy know how to contact him?"

Elizabeth raised a brow, a playful smile on her face. "Why Jane, you don't mean to write him, do you?"

Jane blushed. "No, of course not. But perhaps, Mr. Darcy…?" She looked at Elizabeth expectantly.

"I am sure Fitzwilliam would be happy to contact his cousin on your behalf."

Jane squealed, grabbing her sister in another embrace. "Thank you, Lizzy! Thank you!" She pulled her sister to her wardrobe and flinging it open, said, "Now, help me get ready. I am eager to talk to Georgiana."

Elizabeth laughed and went to call the maid so that her sister could take a much-needed bath.

~oOOo~

Darcy stared at the single candle flickering in the darkness, his thoughts returning to the momentous events of the day. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a brief respite. Despite feeling physically and emotionally exhausted, he felt free, unburdened. A huge weight had been lifted today. He smiled. With a weary sigh, he forced his eyes open and heaved himself upright; his day was not yet done. He had a letter to write.

A/N: Well, there you have it. Not too bad, right? I'm sorry if I caused any undue anxiety with mentioning that Elizabeth's reaction would be anything other than what you just read. So Jane knows about Richard's intentions, and Darcy is writing his cousin. Hmmm…what'll the good Colonel do, I wonder? *grin*

Also, I feel I should reassure you that I will not be killing off Elizabeth or Darcy. There seems to be several readers who feel that is where I am headed with this story…perish the thought! I have been known to scream and throw books against the wall if I don't get a HEA. So don't freak out with the mention of forget-me-nots and "remember me." It's not because one of them is going to die. So breathe people! J

Next chapter: Lady Worthington's ball. Oh boy, I can't wait!

Please review!

Much love,  
MAH


	41. Chapter 41

All bow to my awesome beta, CassandraLowery!

Chapter 40

Elizabeth awoke to complete darkness and knew without looking at a clock that it was well before dawn. She lay still in the hope that she would drift back to sleep. After some minutes, she turned onto her back with a frustrated sigh, reluctantly conceding that she would sleep no more this night. She sat up, careful not to disturb her sister. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw that Jane was not beside her. Frowning, she got out of bed, her eyes searching for her sister in the darkened room.

Elizabeth entered their sitting room, and immediately saw Jane sitting on the window seat, her white nightgown glowing in the pale moonlight making her appear almost ethereal. Elizabeth approached her sister with silent steps, not wishing to disturb her quiet stillness.

Elizabeth climbed onto the window seat facing her sister, tucking her feet under her nightgown. Jane sat motionless, her face turned toward the glass. Elizabeth studied her sister's profile, waiting for her to speak. Jane had been understandably overjoyed and relieved learning of Colonel Fitzwilliam's intentions, drifting about the house with a perpetual smile on her face for the past several days. But the past two days Jane had become uncharacteristically quiet and grave, a sure sign that something was bothering her.

Jane broke the silence with a long and slow sigh. Without turning her head, she whispered, "I think Mr. Bingley took Richard's letter."

Jane's statement didn't come as a surprise to Elizabeth. She and Fitzwilliam had come to the same conclusion after hearing Simmons' account of the colonel's visit; they had decided not to tell Jane their suspicions in case there was another explanation. Fitzwilliam was still waiting for a response from the express he sent the colonel four days previously. Elizabeth knew Fitzwilliam was secretly hoping there was some other explanation to the missing letter. Elizabeth recalled with a pang the look of devastation on Fitzwilliam's face when he realized that one of his oldest friends could have done something so unconscionable.

When Elizabeth didn't respond, Jane turned and looked at her sister, studying her expression in the moonlight. "You don't appear shocked."

Elizabeth sighed. "I suspected as much."

Jane nodded, her face devoid of emotion. "I questioned Simmons myself. Not that I doubted Mr. Darcy's word, but I had to hear it for myself. At first, I didn't want to believe it of Mr. Bingley, but the more I think about his strange behavior last Friday, I always come back to the same inevitable conclusion."

Elizabeth grasped Jane's hand, squeezing gently. "You're referring to when Mr. Bingley kept touching his left breast?"

Jane nodded. "Yes. Richard's letter must have been concealed in his inner jacket pocket. If that was the only evidence, I would have dismissed it." Jane looked beseechingly at her sister. "But how do you explain my sewing basket?"

Not waiting for Elizabeth to respond, Jane continued, "I questioned all the servants to see if anyone entered the drawing room after Richard left and before Mr. Bingley's visit. I was hoping that one of them had accidentally overturned my sewing basket, and that the letter had been misplaced."

Elizabeth gave her sister a gentle smile. "But no one entered the drawing room after the colonel left, did they?"

Jane shook her head. "No, no one did."

Jane wrapped her arms around her waist. "How could he do it, Lizzy?" she cried, her expression anguished. "How could he take a private letter and…and read it?" She shook her head in disbelief. "What type of gentleman does that?"

"Someone with nothing to lose."

Jane looked at her sister in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Isn't it obvious, Jane? Mr. Bingley stumbled over your sewing basket, found the letter, read it, thus learning of the colonel's love for you and that he was leaving for the Peninsula."

Elizabeth gave her sister a pointed look. "By taking the colonel's letter, Mr. Bingley would eliminate his competition, no doubt hoping that you'd feel abandoned by the colonel and that he didn't care for you, thereby leaving the way open for Mr. Bingley to pursue you and make his addresses without interference."

Jane looked horrified. "As if I could ever care for someone so…so…."

"Despicable? Unscrupulous? Deceitful?" Elizabeth suggested.

Jane shook her head, her blue eyes filled with sadness. "I am sorry for it, Lizzy. If only I had said something to dissuade Mr. Bingley…."

"No, Jane," Elizabeth interrupted, her voice emphatic. "Mr. Bingley alone is culpable."

Jane sighed, playing with the hem of her nightgown. "I wish that I had not agreed to dance the first two sets with Mr. Bingley at Lady Worthington's ball."

Elizabeth stared at Jane in shock, knowing that her sister had been diligent in avoiding Mr. Bingley's almost daily visits. "What? When did this happen?"

Jane looked away, embarrassed. "The last time I saw him. The day he took Richard's letter."

"Oh, Jane," Elizabeth said in sympathy.

"He asked me so suddenly, and I was so confused and disconcerted by his strange behavior that I found myself agreeing before I knew what I was about! I regretted it the minute I said yes. I wished to save those dances for Richard. But what could I have done?" Jane cried.

"Nothing Jane," Elizabeth said soothingly. "You were not in a position to refuse unless you didn't wish to dance at all."

Jane huffed. "I should have lied and told him that Richard had already requested those dances."

Elizabeth's responding laughter brought a slight smile to Jane's face.

Jane sobered immediately. "I miss him, Lizzy," she whispered, so low Elizabeth had to lean in to hear her. Jane looked up, and Elizabeth was struck by the utter despair in her sister's eyes. "I cannot bear the thought that he will leave without knowing…" Jane's voice faltered, and she took a steadying breath, "without knowing how much I love him."

Elizabeth's heart was filled with compassion, and she enfolded Jane in her embrace, providing comfort only a sister could give. Elizabeth prayed fervently that Jane would receive the happiness she deserved with the man she loved.

"He knows, Jane," Elizabeth responded finally. "Your Richard knows that you love him."

Jane sat up, her eyes seeking reassurance. "Do you really think so?"

Elizabeth smiled, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Jane's ear. "I know so."

"If only I could see him, Lizzy," Jane implored. "Just once before he leaves."

Elizabeth didn't respond, her mind working frantically on the possibility of taking a short trip to Brighton before they returned home. Could their uncle be persuaded? Perhaps Fitzwilliam could assist? She mentally shook her head, knowing it was hopeless. They were expected back home on Saturday, and any delay would raise their mother's suspicions. Elizabeth bit her lip, pondering how she could persuade her parents without giving away the reason for their unexpected detour.

"Lizzy?" Jane's quiet voice interrupted Elizabeth's planning.

"We should try to get some sleep, or we will be exhausted for Lady Worthington's ball tonight."

When they were settled back in bed, Jane turned on her side, facing Elizabeth.

"What do you think I should do about Mr. Bingley?"

Elizabeth was silent for some minutes as she considered her sister's question. She sighed. "At the very least, Mr. Bingley needs to admit to taking the letter and offer you an apology. But whatever you decide, I am sure it will be exactly what he deserves."

Jane turned onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. "I suppose throwing a glass of ratafia in his face would not be appropriate, would it?"

Elizabeth could hear the smile in Jane's voice. "Oh, I don't know about that," she responded with a laugh. "Although I think a cup of tea _accidentally_ dropped in his lap might be a little more effective."

There was a moment of silence, then Jane burst into giggles. "Lizzy, that's horrible!"

Elizabeth sincerely felt that Mr. Bingley deserved far worse for putting her dearest Jane through such emotional turmoil; there was no excuse for what he had done. Elizabeth forced such unpleasantness from her mind, turning her thoughts to something much more agreeable: tonight she would dance with Fitzwilliam for the first time. Elizabeth was smiling as she drifted to sleep.

~oOOo~

The morning of Lady Worthington's ball began fortuitously with a refreshing rain, cleansing the city of the foul odors that had plagued London for the past sennight. Elizabeth escaped to the garden as soon as the rain ceased its persistent drizzle, and a reluctant sun peeked from behind the clouds. She was not expecting Fitzwilliam to call as he had informed her the day before, in a rather vague manner, that he would be occupied with some pressing matters of business. With the entire day stretching out before her, she decided to try and write her father. Again.

Elizabeth crumpled another sheet of paper, throwing it to the ground with a groan. She stared at the pieces of paper littered at her feet, her brow lowered in frustration. Her attempts were proving to be futile. Each time she began, the anger and betrayal she felt towards her father rose up within her like an uncontrolled storm, and she couldn't form a single sentence in a courteous manner. She placed her lap desk on the bench beside her with a resigned sigh, and leaning back, she closed her eyes, feeling her anger drain away as she breathed deeply of the fresh air.

A gust of wind swept through the garden, rustling the leaves of the oak tree spread above her like a comforting embrace. As she gazed up into its expansive canopy, memories of all moments she had shared with Fitzwilliam under, and in this tree flew through her mind until her thoughts stopped and lingered on the memory of the planting of _their_ oak sapling in the garden of Darcy House.

Elizabeth opened the lid to her lap desk and removed Fitzwilliam's letters, smiling as she fingered the green ribbon that bound together his words of love and adoration. She placed her lap desk on the ground, and turned to lean against the arm of the bench, adjusting the pillow at her back. Stretching her legs out in front of her, she settled down to read each of Fitzwilliam's letters, beginning with the first letter he had written her. Some letters were short while others were several pages long, but each one bore witness of his love and devotion to her and their future life together. She paused as she came to the letter she had received just that morning, accompanied by a dozen perfect crimson roses, one for each day they had been engaged.

Elizabeth was so absorbed in Fitzwilliam's words that she startled when she felt the back of a hand lightly touch her cheek. She looked up in surprise, blinking in the late afternoon sun.

"Fitzwilliam!" Elizabeth sat up in haste, dropping her legs to the ground, a faint blush staining her cheeks at being caught in such an unladylike position.

Fitzwilliam leaned down, bestowing a soft kiss on her astonished lips. "Good afternoon, my love." He sat beside her, glancing down at the discarded pieces of paper at their feet, a frown marring his face. He looked at her with a sad smile. "Letters to your father?"

"I have been unsuccessful, as you can see."

Fitzwilliam nodded in understanding. "Perhaps if you simply write what you feel, it will aid you when you finally face him."

Elizabeth stared at him in astonishment. "But I couldn't possibly send my father such a letter!"

"Not to send. I have found that it helps to write down everything you wish you could say, but cannot. It may help you work through your feelings."

Elizabeth's expression was thoughtful. "I will." She smiled warmly at Fitzwilliam. "Thank you."

Fitzwilliam glanced at the letter in her lap and raised his brows; plucking it from her lap, he gave her a satisfied grin. "Ah, reading my letters, I see. Could it be because you missed me? Hmmm?"

Elizabeth laughed, delighted at his playful mood. She tried to retrieve her abducted letter, but his long arms kept it out of reach. "Insufferable man. Would you be so kind as to return my letter?"

Fitzwilliam's grin grew wider. "Only after I hear how much you missed me."

Elizabeth huffed, folding her arms in mock irritation. Unwilling to give in so easily, she glanced at Fitzwilliam from the corner of her eye, a mischievous smile on her face. She bit her lip to hold back a laugh as his confident expression became wary. She angled her body toward him, sliding her hand up his arm to rest on his shoulder. Fitzwilliam closed his eyes with a groan as her fingers tangled in his hair. As she drew his head down to hers, she placed her other hand on his thigh, her eyes glowing with triumph as the hand holding the letter dropped. With an exultant cry, she snatched it from his limp hand.

Fitzwilliam's eyes narrowed. "You, my love, are a very cruel woman."

Elizabeth gave him a cheeky smile. "You deserved it, Fitzwilliam, for taking a lady's letter."

A brief shadow clouded Fitzwilliam's features, and Elizabeth felt a pang of guilt for inadvertently causing him to think of Mr. Bingley's deception.

"I defer to your superior method of manipulation, Elizabeth." He bowed his head. "Now, how shall I make amends? What punishment shall you bestow?"

Elizabeth knew exactly what she wished. "Read your letter to me?"

Fitzwilliam looked at her in surprise. "With pleasure." He cleared his throat, placing his arm around Elizabeth as she settled against him.

Elizabeth sighed in contentment, closing her eyes when he began to read, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through her body. His tender words of adoration infused her heart with a glowing warmth that filled her entire being. A wave of gratitude swept through her that such a true and enduring love was hers. She didn't know what she had done to deserve such devotion, but she would be forever thankful for the unseen angels who brought Fitzwilliam into her life. How could she have ever doubted that Fitzwilliam loved her? That they were meant to be together?

When Fitzwilliam finished reading, Elizabeth opened her eyes to see him looking down at her with a tender smile. She reached up and cupped his face, her thumb stroking his jaw. "I believe I will have you read my letters from now on. Thank you, my love. That was beautiful."

Fitzwilliam pressed his lips to hers. "You are welcome. I have something for you."

His expression reminded Elizabeth of a little boy receiving a long desired toy or favorite treat. She watched in anticipation as Fitzwilliam picked up a blue velvet jewelry case lying on the bench beside him and placed it in her lap. Elizabeth ran her fingers over the smooth velvet, glancing up to see Fitzwilliam looking at her with barely concealed excitement.

Elizabeth took a deep breath before opening the jewelry case in one smooth motion. She stared, mouth agape when she saw what lay nestled within its satin interior. "Fitzwilliam," she gasped in awe. Laying before her was the most exquisite necklace she had ever seen, composed of opals and diamonds in a detailed and intricate ribbon design. The predominant color of the opals was a deep green, but within the stones flashed colors of red, blue, and violet, making them appear to shimmer with an inner fire that was mesmerizing.

Fitzwilliam stroked a perfect opal with reverent fingers. "Three generations of Darcy brides have worn this necklace." He reached for her hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss before holding it against his heart. "You will be the fourth bride to wear it."

Elizabeth gazed at Fitzwilliam, her eyes bright. "I would be honored to wear an heirloom of your family, Fitzwilliam," she said in an unsteady voice. A thought occurred to her. "Everyone at Lady Worthington's ball will know the significance of this necklace, will they not?"

"Yes, they will. Is that agreeable?"

Elizabeth's responding smile broke over her face like the sun peeking from behind a cloud. "Yes, very agreeable." She gave him an impish smile. "I want every young lady to know that you are off the marriage market."

Fitzwilliam cupped her face with his hands, gazing at her with an intensity that stole her breath. "I want all of society to know that I am yours." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "Completely," he whispered in her ear. "Irrevocably." He trailed light kisses down her jaw, before meeting her gaze. "Yours."

"As I am yours," Elizabeth whispered, meeting his lips with her own.

~oOOo~

Darcy shifted restlessly from one foot to the other, impatient for Elizabeth to arrive. He cursed himself for agreeing to Lady Worthington's scheme of arriving early to the ball without Elizabeth. He must be mad. Only madness would induce him to remain in the entrance hall under a Greek statue of questionable taste in full view of every simpering young miss. He had lost count of the number of times he had been approached by gentlemen with whom he had barely a passing acquaintance for the purpose of introducing him to their daughters, nieces, or granddaughters. Either they had not heard the rumor spread by Lady Emily that he was engaged, or they were choosing to ignore it and pretend it was not true. He couldn't help but feel a perverse sense of pleasure at seeing the looks on their faces when they realized their posturing and preening were for nothing.

It was at times like this that Darcy especially missed Richard's presence. His cousin always had a way of distracting him from unpleasant social situations and was expert at diverting unwanted attention away from Darcy. He frowned, worry creasing his brow at Richard's uncharacteristic silence. He had expected a quick response to his express, especially considering the content of his message. His countenance darkened at the thought of his friend's deception. Bingley had much to answer for if he had indeed taken Richard's letter. He would have to confront Bingley. Soon.

Thus lost in his thoughts, his gaze riveted to the door, he was unaware that a small party had paused near his location until a loud, grating voice interrupted his concentration. An elderly couple and a young gentleman whom he knew only by sight were conversing in loud voices. He stiffened as he heard his name, spoken by the elderly woman. The young man met his eye and upon recognizing Darcy, flushed an unbecoming vermillion, and he tried unsuccessfully to hush his elderly female companion. He listened with growing anger as she proceeded to talk openly about the rumors circulated by Lady Emily, and the likelihood of whether or not they were true. He resisted, with herculean effort, the urge to march over and put the woman in her place.

Darcy groaned as yet another young lady openly admired him, coquettishly looking over her shoulder as she passed.

"Perhaps it would help if you weren't standing beneath a statue of Aphrodite. I expect it is sending the wrong message," Lord Matlock observed, coming to stand beside Darcy, Lady Eleanor on his arm.

Darcy scowled at his uncle who chuckled, slapping him on the back. "Cheer up, Darcy. Miss Elizabeth will arrive soon and put all these hoity-toity misses in their rightful place."

Lady Eleanor shook her head, a mild look of exasperation on her face. "Really Henry, don't tease the boy so. You know how he despises society events." She turned to Darcy, her expression eager. "Did you give it to her?"

"Just this afternoon, Aunt."

Lady Eleanor beamed. "Wonderful! And she will wear it tonight?"

Darcy bowed his head. "She will." Just then, he spied Bingley ascending the staircase as if the devil were at his heels. Darcy narrowed his eyes, debating whether to speak to Bingley now or wait. He hesitated briefly before making a decision.

~oOOo~

Elizabeth glanced up at the imposing façade of Worthington House as she followed her sister, aunt, and uncle up the steps. The house was ablaze with light, and it appeared as if all of London society had turned out for the most talked-about ball of the season. There was a small queue to enter the house, and she sighed at the unwelcome delay.

Jane smiled in understanding. "Patience, Lizzy. Mr. Darcy can wait a few moments longer."

Upon hearing Mr. Darcy's name, an elegantly dressed woman standing in front of them turned, blatantly looking Elizabeth and Jane up and down with a haughty expression for longer than was considered polite. She sniffed and turned to her companion with a condescending remark about them being "presumptuous" and "nobody of consequence." Elizabeth resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Jane leaned in and whispered, "I cannot wait to see the look on all their faces when they realize it is _you_ who is engaged to Mr. Darcy. That will wipe the superior smirks off their faces." She glanced pointedly at Elizabeth's neck concealed by her pelisse.

Elizabeth raised a brow in amusement. "I hardly think the necklace will create quite the stir you are hoping for, Jane."

Aunt Gardiner shook her head. "Jane is right, Lizzy. It is not just any necklace as I am sure Mr. Darcy explained to you; it is called 'the bride necklace' for a reason." Seeing Elizabeth's skeptical look, she added with a knowing smile, "Just you wait."

The entrance hall of Worthington House was designed to impress and intimidate. Elizabeth was extremely grateful that she had already seen it, or she would have stood and stared like a simpleton at its sheer size and opulence. The floor was of imported Italian marble; Greek and Roman statuary lined both sides of the hall leading to a magnificent split staircase, the ballroom entrance located at the apex. The ladies' gowns were a cascade of color as they ascended the staircases, their jewels sparkling in the soft light of the enormous chandelier. A footman approached to take their outerwear, and after receiving significant looks from Jane and her aunt, Elizabeth removed her pelisse.

While her aunt and Jane discarded their outerwear, Elizabeth began discreetly scanning the entrance hall for Fitzwilliam. She was unable to see him amidst the throng of society's finest, so she walked further into the entrance hall, pausing near the receiving line. As she searched, she met the eyes of a young gentleman less than three meters away who was observing her with frank admiration. Suddenly he froze, his eyes growing wide. With obvious excitement, he turned to an elderly couple next to him and began speaking, gesturing animatedly in her direction, causing others nearby to look at her. Elizabeth flushed and turned away, adjusting her gloves as a distraction. Thankfully, her uncle approached, escorting her aunt with Jane following closely behind.

Jane grabbed Elizabeth's arm as they went to greet their hosts. "Have you seen Mr. Bingley?"

Elizabeth looked at her sister, unsurprised at Jane's tense expression. "No, I have not. Perhaps he decided not to attend?"

"If only I could be so lucky," Jane muttered.

Elizabeth squeezed Jane's arm in sympathy before turning her attention to their hosts. Both sisters curtsied to Lady Worthington.

Lady Worthington greeted Jane warmly before turning to Elizabeth with a knowing smile. "Your Mr. Darcy is already here, my dear. One of the first to arrive, in fact. Quite uncharacteristic of him. Although I am sure he had his reasons." She winked at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth let out a low laugh. "I was not going to ask, Lady Worthington."

Lady Worthington quirked an eyebrow, her eyes twinkling. "No? But I'd bet my favorite turban it was what you were thinking." She glanced behind Elizabeth, her lips pursing in annoyance. "I cannot imagine what became of him." She pointed her fan behind Elizabeth. "The last I saw him he was lurking behind that statue over there."

Elizabeth turned, her expression hopeful. But instead of her betrothed, she encountered several ladies and gentlemen, all staring at her with varying degrees of incredulity. As she met their gazes, hushed whispers trickled through the entrance hall. She touched the necklace around her neck self-consciously.

Lady Worthington chuckled. "Don't pay them any mind, my dear. Soon they'll be singing a different tune." She rapped Lord Worthington on the arm with her fan. "Isn't that right, Roger?"

Lord Worthington, who had just finished greeting her uncle and aunt, turned to his wife. "What's that, my life?" Upon seeing Jane and Elizabeth, he smiled, raising his quizzing glass. "Ah! Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth. Pleasure to see you, my dears."

Elizabeth graciously thanked Lord Worthington, and after she and Jane had promised to save him a dance, they left the receiving line.

Elizabeth began to look for Fitzwilliam in earnest, grasping Jane's arm for support as the whispers and not-so-subtle glances in her direction became impossible to ignore. She saw the woman who had acted so condescendingly upon her arrival staring at her with a look of shock on her overly-rouged face. In every direction she was confronted with staring faces, expressions of shock, envy, and dismay mixed with confusion and even anger. Refusing to be intimidated, she smiled, her countenance composed, pretending that half the guests were not staring at her as if she were some rare and bizarre attraction on display. _Fitzwilliam, where are you?_

~oOOo~

Darcy excused himself after receiving his aunt's assurances that she would watch for Elizabeth. Thus appeased, he followed his long-time friend. As he neared the top of the stairs, he saw Bingley disappear into the throng entering the ballroom. His attempt to follow Bingley was thwarted by Mr. Astley, another "close" acquaintance who no doubt wished to parade his female relative in front of him like a horse at Tattersall's. Darcy's mouth twitched as he imagined what would happen if he asked to inspect the young lady's teeth.

Darcy clenched his jaw, his face an imperturbable mask as he endured the pompous fool's effusions. To make matters worse, the man had the unfortunate habit of bouncing on the balls of his feet as he talked, making it difficult to focus on the man without becoming dizzy.

Before Darcy could politely extract himself from a rather nauseating one-sided conversation, Astley grasped his arm, and leaning in much too close, whispered, "I hear rumors that you're to be leg-shackled (1)." Not waiting for Darcy to respond, he continued, "I told the missus that it couldn't be true as Darcy has not yet met our Rebecca." Astley winked. "She won't make her curtsey for two more years, but…." Astley's conversation stopped abruptly as his attention was diverted; he grasped the banister, his eyes wide as he stared below.

"Upon my word! Is she wearing…? Is that…?" Astley stammered, mouth agape.

Darcy turned, following Astley's gaze. He inhaled sharply. _Elizabeth_! She looked up as if he had shouted her name, and their gazes locked. Hundreds of faces looked up at him, but he saw only Elizabeth. Darcy stood motionless as he stared in awe and admiration at the woman he loved. From his high vantage point, he could clearly see his necklace adorning her slender neck; the lustrous green opals a stark contrast against her ivory silk gown. She was radiant. He swelled with pride that he belonged to her. With that thought he felt a pull to her, an irresistible force that propelled him forward.

Darcy descended the stairs, excited whispers spreading out like ripples in a lake as he passed. When he reached the bottom, the crowd parted before him, creating an unobstructed path to Elizabeth. As he walked towards her, an expectant silence fell as if all present were holding their breath, waiting for…something.

Darcy stood before her several heartbeats later, their gazes locked. He smiled, unable to conceal his joy. Gasps echoed through the entrance hall. Elizabeth offered him her hand and curtsied, her warm brown eyes filled with love. He raised her gloved hand, holding it to his lips in an attitude of adoration. There was a long beat of silence before the crowd released their collective breaths in a rush of sound, vibrant in its intensity.

Darcy offered his arm to Elizabeth, and as she tucked her small hand into the crook of his elbow he felt her trembling, whether from nervousness or heightened emotion he couldn't discern. He laid his free hand over hers, squeezing gently in reassurance. He looked down at her, and when she met his gaze, he smiled. The effect of his smile on the young ladies went unnoticed by Darcy, but not on his betrothed.

Elizabeth shook her head. "You really should not do that, you know."

"What should I not do?"

"Smile."

Darcy blinked in confusion.

Elizabeth glanced up at him through her lashes, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "I recall telling Jane it was hazardous to women's health."

Darcy laughed, causing people to stare in shock, wondering what happened to the normally reserved and imperturbable Mr. Darcy.

Darcy escorted Elizabeth up the stairs, taking notice for the first time the faces of those he passed. He was unsurprised to see expressions ranging from shock and excitement to envy and disapproval. What he was not expecting, and which alarmed him greatly, were the calculating looks some of the gentlemen were giving Elizabeth. He stiffened as more than one gentlemen eyed her with unusual interest. He glared at the offending gentlemen until one by one they looked away.

Elizabeth, sensing his unease, asked, "Is something bothering you, F…, ah, Mr. Darcy?" She blushed at her almost _faux-pas_.

"Not at all, _Miss_ Elizabeth." He leaned in, and in a low voice said, "But I wish to remain close to you throughout the evening."

"That may prove difficult, sir, as I plan to dance every set."

Darcy was prevented from explaining his reasons why he wished to remain close by the hurried approach of their hostess.

"Well, I must say, Darcy, you quite exceeded my expectations," declared Lady Worthington with a satisfied smile. "There can be no doubt in anyone's mind as to the nature of your relationship." She eyed the bride necklace, the soft glow of the candles reflecting off the stones with a brilliant light. "Everyone knows that you are smelling of April and May (2)." She clapped her hands with unrestrained delight. She leaned toward Darcy, brushing Darcy's forehead with one of the many feathers on her turban. "The first dance will be the waltz (3)." She winked, departing in a swirl of puce silk and feathers.

Elizabeth looked rather alarmed. "Is she allowed?"

"Lady Worthington does what she wants. No one dares gainsay her."

Elizabeth gave a sly smile. "How convenient."

Darcy raised his brows. "Indeed."

The announcement of the waltz created quite a stir amongst the guests; it was understood that it was only allowed at Almack's with the permission of one of its patronesses. When no one took the floor, Lady Worthington waved her arm. "Come, no need to stand on ceremony!"

Without hesitation, Darcy escorted Elizabeth to the floor after Lord and Lady Worthington. Slowly, other couples joined them, some reluctantly. The scandalized majority remained around the perimeter of the ballroom. Darcy noticed Bingley escorting Miss Bennet to the floor; he frowned.

Elizabeth followed his gaze, and, seeing her sister, sighed.

The music began, and Darcy forcibly pushed thoughts of Bingley aside, focusing all his attention on Elizabeth and their first dance together. Nothing else mattered. He offered his left hand, smiling as she placed her small hand in his. He closed his fingers around hers in a firm grip, her eyes luminous as they stared into his. His right hand slid around her waist, drawing her closer than the dance demanded, his hand resting on her lower back. She placed a trembling hand on his shoulder, closing her eyes for a brief moment as he moved his right foot forward, his leg brushing against hers; she mirrored the action. They waltzed in euphoric silence, neither wishing to taint the perfect moment with words. Darcy turned his head, breathing deeply of Elizabeth's jasmine scent, his breath brushing the curls on the side of her face. Her dark eyes were alive with emotion, her tempting lips mere inches away. Remembering they were not alone, he pulled away with a deep sigh of regret. Elizabeth's face was flushed becomingly, and he thought she had never looked so beautiful, so enticing. He marveled anew how perfectly she fit in his arms, and would thank God for the rest of his days for bringing her into his life. As the music ended, he drew her to him possessively, wishing the moment would never end.

Darcy whispered low in her ear, "Thank you, my love. I hope to repeat this often in the future."

"As do I," she breathed.

Darcy escorted Elizabeth off the floor, encountering several young ladies fanning their flushed faces, staring at him with dazed expressions. His imperturbable mask dropped firmly into place as he positioned himself protectively behind Elizabeth, his eyes scanning for Bingley as Elizabeth conversed with her sister; Mrs. Gardiner was nearby, in deep conversation with his Aunt Eleanor.

As he perused the ballroom for Bingley, his ears picked up on Elizabeth's hushed conversation with Miss Bennet.

"…nerve of the man! How dare he solicit your company in such a manner?" Elizabeth's shoulders were tense, her back rigid with indignation. "Ignore him, Jane. You are under no obligation to that man."

Miss Bennet, in a fit of pique, exclaimed, "Where's a glass of ratafia when you need it?"

Elizabeth looked askance at her sister, her expression sly. "Or a cup of tea!" They laughed. Darcy frowned, confused.

"Pardon me, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Bennet, but are you speaking of Bingley?"

"Fitz…Oh! I mean, Mr. Darcy…." She became flustered, her brow puckering adorably.

Elizabeth took a deep breath. "Mr. Darcy, have you spoken with Mr. Bingley lately?"

"No, I have not."

"Would you? He asked to speak with Jane later this evening…privately." Elizabeth gave Darcy a knowing look.

Darcy clenched his jaw, his countenance grim. Perhaps Miss Bingley was not the only one fit for bedlam in that family. His friend's most recent behavior puzzled him exceedingly; it was not in Bingley's nature to be so dishonest. He was convinced that Bingley was avoiding him, no doubt due to his guilty conscience. But why speak with Miss Bennet tonight? There was only one reason a "respectable" gentleman solicited a private audience with a young, unmarried lady. Bingley's intent was clear: he was going to ask Miss Bennet to marry him or the very least ask for a courtship. But surely he knew Miss Bennet's heart was engaged elsewhere? What was his friend up to? He must know that Miss Bennet would refuse his offer of marriage or courtship. Unless…Darcy's face drained of color as a likely possibility entered his thoughts.

Elizabeth touched his arm. "Fitzwilliam? What is it?"

Darcy looked at Elizabeth, unable to hide his dismay. Surely his friend would not do something so despicable? He turned to Elizabeth's sister. "Miss Bennet, when did Bingley ask you for a private audience?"

"Before going in to supper."

"Are you engaged to dance the supper set with Bingley?"

Jane hesitated, glancing at Elizabeth. "He did not ask me, Mr. Darcy; he assumed I would dance the supper set with him."

Darcy's eyes flashed with anger. Bingley's noose was getting tighter. "Do not dance with Bingley, Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth is correct; you are under no obligation to him. I must ask that you do not allow him to speak to you, or coerce you into going somewhere alone with him."

Elizabeth shared a look of alarm with her sister before turning to Darcy. "What do you believe Mr. Bingley will do, Fitzwilliam?"

"I do not know for certain," Darcy said in a calm voice, not wishing to cause them further anxiety. "I have my suspicions." Although Darcy was fairly sure that his suspicions, if allowed to come to fruition, would prove correct. He would not allow Bingley to succeed. The outcome would be devastating, not only for Miss Bennet, but Richard as well.

Elizabeth nodded, her eyes betraying her anxiety.

"Do not worry." Darcy clasped Elizabeth's hand, unmindful of who may be watching. "I will not let anything happen to your sister." Darcy looked at Miss Bennet. "I promise. I will deal with Bingley." He squeezed Elizabeth's hand before letting go.

Darcy scanned the ballroom again to see if his "friend" had reappeared. From his current position he could not see the entire ballroom; Bingley could be lurking in some hidden corner. The only way to find out would be to leave Elizabeth's side which he was hesitant to do. He had to quell his jealousy every time a gentleman even looked at Elizabeth with mild interest. He knew his fears and jealousies were unbecoming of a gentleman, but the thought of one of _them_ touching her in any way was abhorrent.

Darcy stepped up closer to Elizabeth, placing his hand on her lower back; she stiffened in surprise, before relaxing against his hand, with a soft sigh. He rubbed his thumb in slow circles against the small of her back, the silk of her gown smooth against his fingers.

Darcy tensed, his hand dropping away from Elizabeth as he watched a gentleman approach, his gaze focused on Elizabeth. As the man drew closer, he encountered Darcy's forbidding glare causing him to falter before making a hasty retreat. His posture relaxed, his expression once again imperturbable. He glanced at Elizabeth and her sister. They were staring at him; Miss Bennet looked amused, his betrothed, however, did not.

Miss Bennet looked between himself and Elizabeth, her expression uncertain before moving a short distance away to stand closer to Mrs. Gardiner and his Aunt Eleanor.

Darcy cleared his throat. "Forgive me, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth didn't answer for some minutes, her gaze fixed on the couples performing a country dance, the movements both graceful and lively. Each heartbeat seemed like an eternity as he waited for her to speak.

Finally, Elizabeth turned to face him, her expression composed. "I have just one question, Fitzwilliam." Darcy nodded his head in response. "Why did you do it?"

Darcy paused, considering his response. He could tell her that he didn't trust most of the gentlemen present, or that he wished to protect her, all of which were partially true. But he had promised that he would never lie to her, so he told her the absolute truth.

"I was jealous; the idea of another man touching you, being the recipient of one of your smiles…." Darcy took a deep breath. "I told you the day I asked to court you that I have never learned to share."

Elizabeth sighed, laying her hand on his arm. "Fitzwilliam, I love to dance, and until etiquette dictates that it is permissible to dance every dance with one's betrothed, I _will_ be dancing with other gentlemen." She smiled, her eyes soft. "But I promise I will never dance the waltz with anyone but you."

"I should hope not," Darcy declared, his eyes flashing with anger at the mere thought of another man holding Elizabeth in his arms.

"Now, please go and find something to occupy yourself for the next hour or so. I cannot have you intimidate my dance partners." She tilted her head to the side, her eyes dancing with humor. "You could dance. I know there are a number of young ladies who would likely sacrifice dancing for the rest of the evening if they could stand up with you for a single dance."

"I have no desire to dance with anyone but you," Darcy stated honestly.

"That is good, for I don't believe I could bear the jealousy of seeing you stand up with another woman."

"Minx."

Elizabeth laughed. Her expression turned grave, the laughter fading from her eyes. "You could find Mr. Bingley and talk to him."

Darcy nodded. "Yes, I believe I shall." He bowed, bestowing a kiss on the inside of Elizabeth's gloved wrist, and with one last lingering look, he went to find Bingley. It was time to confront his friend.

A/N:

My profuse apologies for the long delay; RL has been crazy. I am still writing (almost every day) when I get a few minutes to rub together, and am working feverishly on the second half of the ball, so I hope it won't be too long until you get its conclusion. I appreciate your patience, and your support. You are all amazing! I would *love* to hear your thoughts!

(1) Leg-shackled: married

(2) Smelling of April and May: madly in love

(3) The earliest mention of the waltz I could find being performed in London was not until Autumn of 1812, so I've moved up the date by six months. Lady Worthington is just the type of person who would flout society and its strict rules to have the waltz performed at her ball, and as the first dance of the evening. I wanted Elizabeth and Darcy's first dance to be a waltz, so I hope you will forgive me for taking such artistic license.

Go to my profile page for the link to what I had in mind for the bride necklace.


	42. Chapter 42

A huge thank you to my beta: the amazing, incredible, incomparable, CassandraLowery!

Chapter 41

Darcy deftly wove through the ball guests, searching for his errant friend with single-minded purpose and feeling as if he were descending into purgatory. His senses were assailed with loud chatter, braying laughter, cloying perfume, and the ostentatious ensembles of the women and even some of the men. He nodded a greeting to several gentleman acquaintances, ignoring their attempts to engage him in mindless conversation, oblivious to the forlorn expressions of their female companions he left in his wake.

Darcy paused by a marbled pillar near the doors leading to the balcony, and Lady Worthington's famed ornamental gardens. It was rumored that the garden boasted several topiaries in the likeness of individuals who had crossed Lady Worthington, a tribute memorializing their stupidity. He was contemplating the likelihood of locating Bingley outside when the music swelled to a crescendo and stopped. He moved behind a pillar to avoid being seen as a steady stream of guests began walking in his direction, the open doors promising an escape from the stifling ballroom. He remained concealed until the last of the guests had exited and the music for the next dance had begun before resuming his search.

"Ah, Darcy!"

Darcy closed his eyes in frustration. He turned, breathing a quiet sigh of relief at seeing his host. "Lord Worthington," Darcy nodded to the elderly man as he approached. "Your ball appears to be a great success. My compliments to your wife."

Worthington looked askance at Darcy, swinging his ever-present quizzing glass like a pendulum. "Come now, Darcy. Tell me what you really think."

Darcy regarded Worthington for a brief moment before bowing his head. "As you wish. With few exceptions, I find it is nothing more than a disgusting display of individuals with loose morals and few principles flaunting their status and wealth."

Worthington's quizzing glass froze its hypnotic swing as he stared at Darcy. He laughed, drawing the attention of those nearby. "That's why I like you, Darcy. You're refreshingly honest, like my dear wife." He leaned in, and in a conspiratorial whisper, said, "I heartily agree with you."

Darcy nodded, unsurprised at Worthington's confession. He had long suspected that he simply played the role society expected of him as the eccentric husband of Lady Worthington.

"If you dislike London society, my lord, why do you live in town year round?"

Worthington raised his brows. "I think the reason would be quite obvious, Darcy."

"But surely Lady Worthington could spend a few months of the year at your country estate?" Worthington raised his quizzing glass to study Darcy, making him feel as if he were a rare specimen under a microscope.

He dropped his quizzing glass with a sigh. "For better or worse, my lady wife has become their conscience." He waved his hand in the general direction of his guests. "Besides," he added, a mischievous twinkle in his eye reminiscent of his wife's, "Sophie is not at all fond of our neighbor."

Darcy's mouth twitched in amusement. "My Aunt Catherine shares the sentiment."

Worthington snorted. "I have never heard my dear wife rail against anyone with as much vigor as your Aunt Catherine."

"I can well imagine," Darcy responded dryly. "My aunt seems to have a talent for inciting… strong emotions."

Worthington chuckled. "Speaking of someone who incites strong emotions…." He pointed with his quizzing glass.

Darcy's eyes narrowed as he spied Lady Emily with her mother, Lady Sefton, on the side opposite them conversing with Lady Morton and her insipid daughter. It soon became apparent that they were not enjoying whatever Lady Emily was saying. Miss Morton appeared uncomfortable, her eyes darting around as if looking for an escape, while Lady Morton was regarding Lady Emily as someone utterly beneath her notice. Lady Morton interrupted Lady Emily, a derisive sneer on her face before grabbing her daughter and left without acknowledging Lady Sefton. Lady Emily appeared shaken, but she rallied and began speaking with her mother, her countenance murderous.

Darcy didn't feel an ounce of guilt at seeing Lady Emily treated so callously. It must have been a double blow to her pride to be treated thus from those considered her social inferiors. In his opinion, she deserved far worse.

"Lady Emily hasn't been asked to dance yet." Worthington appeared inordinately pleased with that fact.

Darcy nodded in satisfaction before putting all thoughts of Lady Emily out of his mind and resumed his search for Bingley.

"If you're looking for Miss Elizabeth, she's dancing with Mr. Coombs." Worthington glanced at Darcy as he spoke, his grin growing wider at Darcy's darkening countenance.

Darcy scanned the dancers, immediately identifying Elizabeth about halfway down the set. She was indeed with that imbecile Coombs. He clenched his fists and fought the urge to cut in and remove Elizabeth from the unworthy gentleman's presence. After observing them for some minutes, he visibly relaxed. Elizabeth's expression was polite but distant as she conversed with her partner who was no doubt boring her with talk of his latest acquisition at Tattersall's. The man's expertise on horseflesh may be second to none, but such knowledge was wasted on his Elizabeth. He settled for watching his betrothed as she drew closer, admiring her figure as she performed the movements of the dance with grace and precision.

Darcy was reminded of the first time he watched Elizabeth dance at Lynton's ball. The emotions he felt that night came rushing back: elation, relief, awe, and if he were perfectly honest with himself, a healthy dose of fear that he would prove unworthy. He had immediately recognized that she was different from the posturing peacocks who constantly vied for his attention, from the simple elegance of her gown to her unaffected manner. She radiated an innocence and innate goodness that was truly genuine. He could not think of a single acquaintance who would have shown such sincere concern for another as Elizabeth demonstrated when her sister fell during the dance.

Darcy watched the woman he loved, a feeling of immense gratitude filling his breast that such a woman had agreed to be his. Elizabeth suddenly looked up as if she sensed his intense perusal, a slow smile lighting her face as their gazes locked. Worthington's soft chuckle drew his attention back to his surroundings.

Darcy cleared his throat. "I am looking for Bingley. Have you seen him?"

Worthington absentmindedly rubbed his chin with his quizzing glass. "Bingley? The gentleman who danced the opening waltz with Miss Bennet?"

Darcy gave a terse nod.

"I believe he went to the card room after the opening dance. You could try there."

The entrance to the card room was located at the opposite end of the ballroom. He would have to traverse its entire length to get to his destination, and with any luck, his efforts would be rewarded. He gritted his teeth and waded into the fray, making it through relatively quickly. He pushed open the heavy wood door and was immediately assailed with the acrid smell of cigars, the thick permeation of smoke causing his eyes to water and his lungs to ache. He suppressed the urge to cough as he peered into the gloomy depths. He could barely make out a half dozen tables littering the richly appointed room with five to six gentlemen to a table. He didn't see Bingley at the tables nearest the door, so he squared his shoulders and entered the dim room.

Several gentlemen called out a greeting, inviting him to join in their game. Darcy refused. Although this was not a gaming hell, bets were generally high, and excessive amounts of money were lost and won with unsettling regularity. He had an inherent distaste for gambling after learning that his grandfather, the late Lord Matlock, had lost nearly his entire fortune due to his addiction to cards. In his experience, a taste for gambling often led to other unsavory vices.

He neared the back of the smoke-filled with no sign of Bingley. As he studied the occupants of the last table, his lip curled in disgust as he recognized them: men who in his opinion did not deserve the title "gentlemen." To the last man, they were immoral reprobates he would not give the time of day. Unfortunately, they were also considered some of the most influential members of society. Darcy shook his head as he observed their inebriated state so early in the evening. A gentleman rose from the table and approached through the haze of smoke. He was astounded to see it was Lynton.

Lynton raised his glass to Darcy. "Darcy! I offer my congratulations. When is the happy day?"

Darcy didn't respond as raucous laughter assailed him as the "gentlemen" made several ribald comments regarding the marriage state. Darcy stepped forward, eyes blazing with fury.

Lynton laid a restraining hand on his arm. "Steady on, Darcy. They don't mean any harm." He steered Darcy away to the side of the room.

Lynton tossed back his drink, grabbing the brandy decanter for a refill. "Come, have a drink with me to celebrate the end of your bachelor days."

"No, thank you, Lynton."

"Always so principled." Lynton gave Darcy a wry smile. "You know, many at Cambridge mocked you for your strict morals; they thought it was…unnatural." Lynton swirled the amber liquid in his glass before taking a drink, his expression pensive. "No women, no gambling." He snorted. "I know you never even participated in the revel-routs(1) at Cambridge." He eyed Darcy speculatively, likely hoping he would admit to some previously undisclosed indiscretion. "But I always admired your self-control. You never compromised your standards or succumbed to the many vices that plagued our social set."

Darcy didn't respond, surprised at Lynton's honest admission. From the time he was out of short pants, he had been carefully taught by his parents how a gentleman should behave. The idea of going against his parents' teachings was inconceivable. He hadn't realized how sheltered a life he lived until he went to Cambridge and was confronted with different views, where depravity and indulgence were the norm rather than soberness and restraint. He remembered all too well his peers' taunts and insults and their numerous attempts to get him to participate in the pleasures that were readily available. He had refused their invitations. Every single time.

Truth was, he had been tempted. Many times. But each time his resolve wavered, he had thought of the woman in his mother's drawing. He would stare at her picture, the sound of his peers' derision still echoing in his ears. As he looked into her eyes, he knew that somewhere she was waiting for him. He could do no less. A moment of meaningless pleasure was not worth a lifetime of regret.

"Perhaps that is why you deserve a woman like Miss Elizabeth."

Darcy was so surprised at the hopelessness in Lynton's voice that he barely registered his remark. When he did, he stared at Lynton with growing unease. Surely he was not pining after Elizabeth? He had bowed out gracefully after their night at the opera, and Darcy had given no more thought to Elizabeth's one-time suitor. He had never doubted that she was meant be his, that she would choose him over Lynton. But looking at the despondent man before him, he could clearly see how it could have ended much differently. If he had simply returned to Pemberley instead of remaining in town or even disregarded Richard's advice in attending events of the season, he never would have seen Elizabeth at Lynton's ball, and the gentleman before him could have won her hand in marriage. The pain he felt was immeasurable at the mere thought of meeting Elizabeth for the first time and learning that she belonged to another.

Lynton, seeing Darcy's unease, was quick to reassure him. "Don't worry, Darcy. I have no designs on your Miss Elizabeth." He smiled, all trace of his former despair gone. "She is an extraordinary woman, but not for me." His smile faltered. "Women like Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bennet are rare. I will not deny that I envy you your happiness." He raised his glass to Darcy in a salute. "You are a lucky man." He took a healthy swallow of his drink before adding, "I will have to console myself with the lovely offerings of the ton."

Darcy raised his brows at Lynton's sarcastic tone. He understood Lynton's sentiments. Now that he was off the marriage market, Lynton would likely be pursued more ruthlessly by well-meaning matrons and their charming daughters. His musings were interrupted by a burst of laughter from Lynton's companions as one stood on the table and began singing a rather bawdy drinking song. He turned to Lynton who had an indulgent smile on his face as he watched his drinking companions.

Darcy shook his head, and gestured toward the boisterous "gentlemen." "Since when do you associate with that crowd?"

Lynton shrugged. "Not long. They may have the manners of pigs, but they amuse."

Darcy pierced Lynton with his gaze. "You're better than them, Lynton."

"Am I?" Lynton mused.

Darcy studied his companion, disturbed by his unusually despondent attitude. Outwardly, there appeared to be nothing amiss. He was impeccably dressed as always and carried himself with the self-assurance of a man who knew his place in the world. He caught the look on Lynton's face as he watched his companions. His expression had changed from indulgent amusement to resigned acceptance, as if he were seeing a future that he couldn't escape. An air of discontentment had settled over Lynton like a dirty garment. He had a keen intellect and a good sense of judgement. He did not suffer fools lightly which was why he was disturbed to see him in the company of such degenerate imbeciles. What hold did they have over him?

Although he was keen to continue his search for Bingley, the hopelessness he sensed in Lynton kept him from leaving. He didn't consider Lynton a close acquaintance, but he respected him and knew him to be an honorable gentleman. He felt that he could not leave without pricking his conscience if he was indeed becoming involved in the debauched activities of the rabble behind him as he suspected.

"Lynton." Darcy's tone was firm, commanding Lynton's undivided attention.

Lynton turned to Darcy with a genial smile. Upon seeing Darcy's serious expression, his smile disappeared.

"You _are_ a good man. Don't let them pull you down to their level. The only power they hold over you is what you give them." Darcy paused as he remembered Lynton's earlier comment about envying his happiness. Lynton deserved a woman as rare and as wonderful as Elizabeth. "If you knew a woman like Elizabeth was in your future, what type of man do you think would attract her notice?" Lynton's expression turned contemplative as he considered Darcy's words. He clapped a hand on Lynton's shoulder. "Live worthy of the woman you wish to marry."

Lynton gave Darcy a sardonic smile. "And if such a woman doesn't exist?"

"Then at least your regrets will be few."

Lynton stared down into his empty glass, a slight frown marring his features.

Darcy watched Lynton for a moment before turning to leave.

"They're not that depraved, you know."

Lynton's foolish comment stopped Darcy, and he fixed him with an incredulous stare. He didn't associate with the "gentlemen" in question, but even he knew the extent of their dissolute behavior.

"If you continue to associate with 'pigs,' eventually you're going to get dirty." He nodded to Lynton and left the card room to the sound of boisterous laughter.

He took a deep breath as soon as he stepped into the hallway, clearing his lungs of the acrid smoke that made his chest ache and his eyes water. He shook his head, dismayed to see a good man fall into the pit that had snared so many others. He hastened to the ballroom, hoping his brief delay in talking with Lynton would not prove detrimental.

He paused at the entrance to the ballroom, evaluating his options. With the supper set imminent, it seemed the best course of action would be to locate Elizabeth and her sister and remain by their side, thus preventing Bingley from dancing with Miss Bennet.

Decision made, he stepped into the ballroom when he saw Lady Sefton alert her daughter to his presence. Darcy stiffened, his mask firmly in place as Lady Emily boldly approached him. Unescorted. In the middle of a crowded ballroom. Lady Worthington's ballroom. Darcy mentally shook his head at her ill-conceived ploy. What did she hope to gain? Apparently, the woman's shame knew no bounds. He had hoped to avoid what was coming, but he felt no regret for what he was about to do. He had only to remember the look on Elizabeth's face when she learned of Lady Emily's slander to harden his resolve.

Darcy kept his gaze fixed on a distant point, careful not to meet Lady Emily's overly eager gaze. When she was a meter away, he walked forward, sidestepping Lady Emily with ease, passing her without a word or any form of acknowledgement; his slight could not be mistaken for anything but intentional. By the end of the evening, everyone present would know that Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy had given Lady Emily Pratt the cut direct.

Darcy spied Mrs. Gardiner's distinctive headdress and headed in that direction, knowing Elizabeth would be present unless she was dancing. He neared Mrs. Gardiner, smiling with relief when he saw Elizabeth and her sister. He quickened his pace when he realized they were not alone.

~oOOo~

Elizabeth scanned the ballroom for Fitzwilliam, her anxiety increasing with each passing moment. Soon after Mr. Coombs had escorted her back to Aunt Gardiner and Jane, Mr. Bingley had approached, his steadfast gaze directed at her sister. Elizabeth and Aunt Gardiner had taken up a protective stance on either side of Jane as if their sheer presence could shield her from his unsolicited attentions. For the past quarter hour, her aunt had kept up a near constant stream of nonsensical chatter, not allowing Mr. Bingley any opportunity to speak. Elizabeth's mouth twitched in amusement at the glazed look in Mr. Bingley's eyes as her aunt continued her rant about the increasing rise in the cost of lace. She glanced at Jane, her amusement dissipating at her sister's obvious distress. Although to an outside observer, she was the picture of calm serenity. Elizabeth squeezed her sister's hand, conveying that she would not leave her alone with Mr. Bingley.

Her aunt paused in her chatter, and before Elizabeth could intervene, Mr. Bingley turned to Jane with a relieved smile.

"Miss Bennet, I believe it is almost time for our dance."

Before Mr. Bingley could offer his arm to escort Jane to the dance floor, a familiar figure appeared behind him.

"There you are, Bingley," Fitzwilliam said in a loud voice, causing Mr. Bingley to jump.

Elizabeth exchanged a smile with Aunt Gardiner as Fitzwilliam loomed over the suddenly nervous Mr. Bingley.

"Ah, Darcy. Good to see you." Mr. Bingley directed his gaze to Fitzwilliam's shoulder, unable to meet his eyes.

Fitzwilliam stared at Mr. Bingley, his expression inscrutable. His continuing silence caused Mr. Bingley to fidget like a boy facing his father when he had done something naughty. If Elizabeth had any doubt that Mr. Bingley had taken Jane's letter, it was immediately dispelled at the obvious look of guilt on his face as he stood in the shadow of Fitzwilliam's intimidating presence. Mr. Bingley shifted from one foot to the other as the silence stretched out.

"I need to speak with you, Bingley." Fitzwilliam's tone was firm and unyielding.

Mr. Bingley raised his eyes to meet Fitzwilliam's and visibly flinched at the coldness in his friend's expression. His gaze moved to Jane and lingered, his manner indecisive as if he were weighing the consequences of refusing his friend's request. A brief flash of regret crossed his face before changing to one of resignation. He straightened, raising his head to meet Fitzwilliam's gaze with determination.

"Very well, Darcy. But I…I…." Mr. Bingley's voice stuttered to a stop as his face drained of color, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. He mumbled a hasty, "Excuse me," and without further explanation, turned and fled.

Elizabeth stared in astonishment at Mr. Bingley's rapidly retreating figure. Jane and Aunt Gardiner began speaking in low, hushed voices as she moved to stand next to Fitzwilliam, hoping he could explain the cause of Mr. Bingley's strange behavior.

The question died on her lips at the look of bemusement on Fitzwilliam's face who was peering in the opposite direction of his departed friend. Curious, she followed his gaze, inhaling sharply at the unexpected but welcome sight of Colonel Fitzwilliam striding toward them with purpose, his gaze fixed on her oblivious sister. He was in full military dress and cut an impressive figure in a long-tailed scarlet coat; the collar, cuffs, and facings in a dark blue collar edged with gold lace, white pantaloons, and long white gaiters covering ebony boots, dress sword at his hip.

"Jane." Elizabeth's voice was a strangled whisper. She grasped Jane's arm to gain her attention rather than try another attempt at speaking.

Jane turned, concern etched on her lovely face. "Lizzy, what…?" She gasped loudly when she saw the colonel mere feet away.

Elizabeth reached for Fitzwilliam, wrapping her gloved hand around his arm as the colonel stood before Jane, his eyes unwavering from her radiant face. They stared at one another in awed silence, unmindful of anything but each other. Jane glowed with happiness, and Elizabeth thought she had never appeared more beautiful than in that moment as she gazed at the man she loved and whom she feared she would not see for many months. The music for the cotillion began, the lively melody a sharp contrast to the significance of the moment playing out before them. Finally, the colonel broke the silence.

"Jane." Her name fell from his lips like a lover's embrace, his longing and adoration evident in that single word.

"Are you well?" she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.

"I am now."

Jane blushed, lowering her head for a brief moment before lifting her gaze to meet his, the love in her blue eyes laid bare for all to see.

The colonel stepped closer. "My dearest Jane, will you accept my hand, my heart, and all that I am?"

Jane released a sound between a laugh and a sob. "Yes," she whispered, then louder, "Yes! With all my heart, yes!"

He smiled, clasping Jane's hand as if it were something infinitely precious before bringing it to his lips for a tender kiss. He tucked Jane's hand around his elbow and without a word led her to the dance floor.

Elizabeth released the breath she didn't realize she had been holding and stared after the departing couple in stunned disbelief. She looked up at Fitzwilliam. "Did your cousin just ask for my sister's hand in marriage in the middle of a crowded ballroom?"

He looked down at her with an amused expression. "Richard is the consummate soldier. He has learned to take advantage of opportunities presented to him." He shrugged. "I am not surprised he used the same approach in his personal life. It is rather…effective."

"That, my dear Darcy, is an understatement. But then, Richard never did anything halfway." Lord Matlock grinned proudly as he gazed after his son. Elizabeth blinked. She hadn't even noticed Lord Matlock and Lady Eleanor's arrival, the latter of whom was talking animatedly with her aunt while her uncle looked in the direction of the newly engaged couple with a rather perplexed expression.

Lord Matlock offered his arm to Elizabeth. "I believe you promised the supper set to me, Miss Elizabeth. Shall we?"

~oOOo~

Lord Matlock escorted Elizabeth to the large dining room adjacent to the ballroom after their dance. Fitzwilliam was waiting for them at the entrance, causing Lord Matlock to chuckle.

"You shall not steal away my dinner partner." Lord Matlock wagged his finger at his nephew.

"I would not dream of it, Uncle. I will sit on Miss Elizabeth's other side."

Elizabeth smiled as Lord Matlock threw back his head and laughed. "Ah, young love."

The colonel and Jane approached, their heads so close together it appeared as if they were touching. Elizabeth stared unabashedly at the couple, her heart swelling with happiness at their new-found understanding.

Elizabeth and Lord Matlock led the way into the dining room. She halted abruptly at the unbelievable display before her. "Oh my," she gasped.

Before her was the most extraordinary thing she had ever seen in her nearly twenty years of life. In the center of the enormous room was a large dining table that could easily seat one hundred guests. But what was so incredible was the in the center of the table was a flowing stream, complete with intricate bridges made of wood, mossy banks, rocks, and even what appeared to be live goldfish. (2) In each corner of the room was a smaller table decorated with large vases containing water and more goldfish.

"Do you suppose our hosts' intent was for us to catch our own supper?" Colonel Fitzwilliam quipped, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Lord Matlock chuckled. "This is nothing. The last time Lady Worthington hosted a ball she had a Pantomime (3) performed during supper."

"I don't see how that was more astonishing than this." Elizabeth waved a hand in the direction of the table.

Lord Matlock smiled. "She had the performers join the guests for dinner."

"She didn't," said Jane.

"Oh, she most certainly did. It created quite the scandal. No one but Lady Worthington could have gotten away with it. I admit it still makes me smile every time I remember the performer who sat next to Lady Sedgewick and sang a love ballad while trying to feed her from her own plate."

~oOOo~

Supper passed in a very pleasant manner with Lord Matlock regaling her with amusing anecdotes of his youth while Fitzwilliam alternated between holding her hand and pressing his leg against hers under the table. Jane and the colonel conversed exclusively with each other, and judging by the constant rosy hue of Jane's cheeks, she suspected the colonel was engaging in similar activities with her sister under the long tablecloth.

Elizabeth glanced around the full dining room and noticed Lady Emily and Lady Sefton sitting at one of the smaller tables, a large gap on either side of them. Elizabeth frowned. After a few minutes of observing their table, it was apparent that the other guests had shifted their chairs away from Lady Emily and her mother; no one was acknowledging their presence in any way. Lady Emily looked up, meeting Elizabeth's gaze. She sneered, her lip curling in a most unattractive manner. Elizabeth raised a brow but didn't look away. Lady Emily's eyes narrowed, her animosity apparent even from a distance. A couple passed in front of Elizabeth, blocking Lady Emily from view. When they passed, Lady Emily was talking to her mother, her body movement and facial expression indicating her displeasure.

Elizabeth sighed, drawing the attention of Fitzwilliam who had been conversing with his aunt seated on his other side.

"Is something wrong?" he asked in a low voice.

"Lady Emily."

Fitzwilliam's countenance darkened. "You don't need to concern yourself with that woman."

Elizabeth gave him a half-smile. "I know, but I cannot help but feel sorry for her."

"She does not deserve your pity. She brought it on herself, and now she is reaping the consequences."

Elizabeth nodded, knowing he was right.

Fitzwilliam leaned closer, his breath brushing her ear. "Have you seen Lady Worthington's gardens?"

She turned to Fitzwilliam with an eager expression, all thoughts of Lady Emily forgotten. "No, I have not."

Fitzwilliam smiled. "Unless you are keen to dance, will you accompany me to the gardens, Miss Elizabeth?"

"I would love to." She bit her lip. "Perhaps it would be more prudent for you to leave first, and I'll follow with my aunt." She looked to where her aunt had been seated. It was empty. She then noticed that Jane and the colonel were missing as well. "It appears Colonel Fitzwilliam had a similar idea."

Elizabeth bit her lip to contain her laughter as Fitzwilliam grumbled his irritation with his cousin. She squeezed his hand under the table. "I will ask your aunt to accompany me. Go, Fitzwilliam. I will follow shortly."

Fitzwilliam stood and bowed, bringing her hand to his lips for a kiss. He turned and followed several other guests who were returning to the ballroom, unaware of a pair of ice-blue eyes that followed his movement as he left the dining room.

As soon as Fitzwilliam left, her Aunt Gardiner came bustling up. "Forgive me, Lizzy for deserting you." She sat in Fitzwilliam's vacated seat, out of breath. "I am ready to return to the ballroom whenever you are, my dear."

"I would like to see the gardens, Aunt."

Aunt Gardiner pursed her lips. "Very well, but I want you to stay within sight of the house."

"Why Aunt, whatever do you mean?"

Aunt Gardiner regarded her niece through narrowed eyes. "I notice that Mr. Darcy is not here. I bet my turban he is waiting for you in the gardens."

"Just like Colonel Fitzwilliam was waiting for Jane?"

Aunt Gardiner heaved a sigh and stood. "Very well, I will perform the same office for you as I did for your sister. I only do so because I trust Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy to be honorable."

Elizabeth spoke a few words of farewell to Lord Matlock before standing, linking her arm with her aunt's. They left the dining room arm in arm, conversing of the colonel's unexpected arrival and his very public declaration to Jane. Elizabeth's pace quickened in anticipation as they neared the double doors leading to the gardens. Before they could exit the house, a voice, full of fury, called her name.

Elizabeth reluctantly turned to face Lady Emily. She stood with hands clenched into tight fists, her face flushed with anger. Lady Sefton stood next to her, casting nervous glances at her irate daughter.

Elizabeth raised her head. "Lady Emily."

Lady Emily stalked toward Elizabeth until she was inches away. Elizabeth remained still, resisting the urge to back away. Aunt Gardiner clutched Elizabeth's arm, her nails digging through her evening gloves.

"I have nothing to say to you, Lady Emily. If you will excuse us." Elizabeth spoke calmly through the rapid beating of her heart.

"I most certainly have something to say to you!" Lady Emily hissed. Lady Sefton plucked at her daughter's arm in a vain attempt to get her to cease, but her arm was batted away like a pesky insect.

The nearby guests began moving closer, drawn by the promise of a spectacular scene, their avid gazes fixed on the four women. Elizabeth straightened, her eyes flashing with anger at the impossible situation she found herself in. She knew she should walk away, but her pride would not allow it.

Lady Emily's scathing gaze fell on the necklace around Elizabeth's neck. She sneered, "I see that Mr. Darcy branded you like the cow you are."

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed as shocked gasps emanated from the guests who had drifted close enough to hear Lady Emily's insulting words.

"I am indeed fortunate to wear the proof of Mr. Darcy's approbation and regard. He is well-known for his fastidious and impeccable taste, is he not?" Elizabeth's brow raised in silent challenge.

Lady Emily's face turned an unbecoming shade of vermillion. Lady Sefton tried once again to pull her daughter away.

"Enough!" Lady Emily pushed her mother away. In a low voice, she hissed, "You are nothing! You are not worthy to bear the Darcy name." Her gaze rested on the necklace, her eyes wild. "That should be mine, you scheming hussy!"

As Lady Emily made a wild grab for her necklace, strong arms gripped Elizabeth's shoulders, pulling her out of the way of Lady Emily's grasping fingers. In the same moment, Lady Worthington moved forward with a speed belying her age.

"Oh no, you don't!" Lady Worthington exclaimed as she grabbed the back of Lady Emily's coiffured hair.

Elizabeth was unaware of Fitzwilliam's strong hands gripping her shoulders. She was staring, mouth agape at what appeared to be Lady Emily's elegant coiffure dangling from Lady Worthington's forefinger. The guests stared in stunned silence for a few seconds as they processed what had just happened. Soft laughter trickled through the crowd, growing in volume as Lady Worthington continued to swing her prize from one bejeweled finger.

Lady Emily clutched her head, eyes wide with horror. Gone was the elegantly styled coiffure the color of ebony. Her real hair was the color of dark honey, cropped close to her head. Lady Sefton removed her shawl, draping it over her daughter's shorn head.

"Oh dear, I do so hate it when that happens." Lord Worthington came to stand beside his wife, swinging his quizzing glass in a languid hand.

"Oh yes, quite unfortunate." Lady Worthington's voice practically purred with smugness.

Elizabeth stared at Lady Worthington. She knew. She knew that Lady Emily wore a wig. And she chose to reveal that secret to defend Fitzwilliam. A small voice whispered it was not just Fitzwilliam she wanted to defend but her as well. She finally understood the immense power the woman before her held in the eyes of the _ton_.

Lord Worthington raised his quizzing glass. "I do believe she resembles a plucked chicken, my dear."

Loud chuckles accompanied Lord Worthington's acute observation. Elizabeth looked away, uneasy at the public disgrace Lady Emily was suffering although she couldn't deny that she had brought it on herself. Fitzwilliam squeezed her shoulders, sensing her distress.

"Hmmm…I don't believe chickens belong in a ballroom." Lady Worthington responded, eliciting more laughter from the assemblage of guests.

Lady Worthington snapped her fingers, and a footman appeared at her side, an empty silver tray in his hand. "Fawcett, take this…article and dispose of it." She dropped the wig on the tray without ceremony.

Lady Sefton finally found her voice, and she rounded on Lady Worthington. "I demand that you return my daughter's property, Sophie. This is low, even for you."

Lady Worthington waved the footman away before turning to Lady Sefton, regarding the younger woman with barely concealed disdain. In a voice so quiet that Elizabeth had to strain to hear, Lady Worthington asked, "Tell me, how is your son and heir?"

The innocuous question caused Lady Sefton's face to blanch, eyes wide with fear. Her eyes darted to the assembled guests before turning pleading eyes to Lady Worthington. Seeing her unrelenting expression, Lady Sefton grasped her daughter's arm in desperation. Lady Emily refused to be moved, her eyes glaring at those who were witness to her humiliation.

Lady Worthington made a shooing motion with her hands. "Yes, time to go. Cluck, cluck."

Lady Emily stomped her foot in outrage before Lady Sefton was finally successful in dragging her daughter away. The crowd parted for the disgraced and thoroughly humiliated woman, laughter following her as she left the ballroom.

Lady Worthington watched them leave, a pleased smile on her face. "I believe I have found the subject for my next topiary."

"Don't forget to add the wig, my dear." Lord Worthington resumed swinging his quizzing glass.

Lady Worthington laughed, winking at Elizabeth. "Well, that is quite enough excitement for one evening."

Elizabeth heartily agreed with her. Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived with Jane on his arm, and Elizabeth observed her sister's heightened color and soft smile. The colonel looked back and forth between Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam's solemn expressions and the animated guests hovering around Lord and Lady Worthington. He turned to Fitzwilliam, his expression dejected. "What did I miss?"

A/N: How many of you sqee'd/squealed/shouted, etc. when the good colonel showed up? *Grin* I know some of you saw him coming from a mile away, but I am sure I surprised a good many of you. Hah!

So, should we just let Bingley slink away? Hmmm…I think not. J I had the hardest time deciding exactly how to handle Bingley. But when I stopped and really thought about it, it became blaringly obvious. So stay tuned for the confrontation next chapter.

I am so sorry for the extra-long wait for this chapter—we moved, which effectively ate up any spare time I had for a while. I am now back into my regular routine, so I should be cranking out the chapters with more regularity. If I have not posted for over a month, go to my profile page and I'll have an update on the reason for my absence.

A huge shout out to my reviewers, new and old for your continued support, encouragement, and enthusiasm. You're awesome! Also, to all you silent readers/lurkers—I love you too! As I said in a previous post, I will NOT abandon this story. I promise.

Much love,

MAH

(1) Revel-rout: It was a gathering of usually young men (sometimes as many as 100 students) for the specific purpose of drinking and engaging in revelry. This was practically a requirement of an Oxbridge (Oxford/Cambridge) education. Being inebriated was not only acceptable but, in some circles expected.

(2) The Prince Regent gave a dinner party in 1811 with the main table described thus. When I read about it, I just had to use it J

(3) A Pantomime was a theatrical production adapting stories from European fairy tales, fables, folk tales, classic literature or nursery rhymes. They were often comedy's or satires with dancing, songs, acrobatics, and gender-crossing roles. Not to be confused with miming (the meaning of pantomime outside Britain).

**Next chapter: Col F and Darcy confront Bingley, Col F says good-bye to Jane *sniffle*, Mr. Williamson makes a brief appearance, and the return to Longbourn (Finally!)**


	43. Chapter 43

Much love to my beta: CassandraLowery!

Chapter 42

Elizabeth awoke to the sound of Sarah opening the curtains beside her bed, bathing the room in bright, mid-morning sunshine. She groaned in protest as the light hit her face, and she buried her head under the bedsheets in a rare, uncharacteristic display of laziness. She had arrived home from Lady Worthington's ball at half-past two in the morning, and Jane had kept her awake until nearly four, eager to recount Colonel Fitzwilliam's unexpected arrival and public proposal. Jane was engaged! Just remembering her sister's glowing countenance from learning that the man she loved returned her affections was worth a night's loss of sleep. Not even the likelihood of a long engagement could damper Jane's joy and excitement. Elizabeth knew she could not be so understanding or patient if she had to wait months, perhaps years, to marry Fitzwilliam.

Elizabeth rolled over, yawning until her jaw cracked. She blindly reached out to Jane's side of the bed, her hand finding nothing but bedsheets. Surprised, she raised her head, prying open bleary eyes to confirm that Jane was no longer beside her. The sheets were cold, so her sister had left the bed some time ago. She wondered if Jane had been able to sleep at all after the previous night's excitement. Deciding that the whereabouts of her newly engaged sister could wait, Elizabeth hugged her pillow close to her chest as she relived her own memorable evening.

She had felt a growing sense of anticipation mixed with nervousness as she waited for Fitzwilliam to find her at the ball. The weight of the necklace had never seemed so heavy as she felt the eyes of the _ton_ upon her, judging her, weighing her worthiness. But the moment she had locked eyes with Fitzwilliam standing above her, everything had faded away to nothing; all she saw was him. And as he walked towards her amidst the crowded guests, time had stopped. She had held her breath until he had taken her hand in his…where it belonged. Where it had _always_ belonged. In that moment she knew from somewhere deep inside her that she would never doubt her worthiness again. Everything in her life had been leading to that perfect moment.

Elizabeth smiled as other indescribable memories from the ball flashed through her consciousness that she would treasure forever: the sense of rightness and the look of complete adoration on Fitzwilliam's face as they waltzed for the first time, her relief and gratitude at his timely arrival to forestall Bingley from dancing with Jane, his protective and silent presence as she faced Lady Emily's wrath. Their walk in the gardens…Elizabeth buried her head in her pillow to hide her wide smile and over-heated face.

"Lizzy, wake up."

Jane's voice, tinged with a touch of panic, interrupted her pleasant thoughts. Elizabeth mumbled an incoherent reply into her pillow before her mind drifted back to her walk with Fitzwilliam in the garden. The air had been warm, but not overly so, redolent with the smell of flowers and fresh-turned earth. The quiet darkness had heightened her awareness of the man who held her with such tenderness, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating in every fiber of her being as his lips caressed….

"Lizzy, please!" Jane grasped the bedclothes, yanking them onto the floor. "I am in desperate need of your assistance. Richard will be here in an hour, and I don't know what to wear!"

Elizabeth groaned in frustration and buried her head further into her pillow, determined to finish reliving her most pleasant memory of the night. Jane huffed, and Elizabeth cracked open an eye to see her sister flounce from the room. If she had been in a different state of mind, she would have given her sister's uncharacteristic behavior the attention it deserved, but she had spent much of the night listening to Jane and wished to spend a few moments indulging in her own pleasant memories. Jane could wait. She mentally nodded her head at that sound logic, clutching her pillow closer to her chest. Now, where was she…? Oh yes. The warmth and softness of Fitzwilliam's lips as they trailed down….

Elizabeth gasped as cold water cascaded onto her prone form. She bolted upright in bed, the frigid water streaming down her hair and face, soaking her thoroughly. She gaped at her wide-eyed sister standing beside the bed, clutching an empty water pitcher in her white-knuckled grip. Jane wore a slightly shocked expression as if she couldn't quite believe that she had just doused her dearest sister with cold, unforgiving water.

"Good, you're up." Jane's eyes danced as her lips curved into a smile that suspiciously resembled a smirk.

Elizabeth glared at her unrepentant sister as she climbed off her soaked bed with as much dignity as she could muster, brushing tendrils of wet hair away from her face as water pooled on the rug at her feet.

"I think the colonel is a bad influence on you, Jane."

Jane gave Elizabeth a sunny smile. "That is the best compliment I have ever received, sister dear." She grasped Elizabeth's hand, pulling her toward the dressing room. "Now come and help me choose what to wear."

~oOOo~

A quarter of an hour later, Elizabeth sat near the open window attempting to dry her unruly mass of hair from its unexpected soaking as she watched her fully-dressed sister fidgeting with a pillow. Those who didn't know Jane well couldn't detect the subtle nuances of her facial expressions. To most, even members of her own family, Jane was the embodiment of perfectly-controlled emotions. But Elizabeth understood the workings of her sister's mind better than anyone…which was how she knew the slight crease in her sister's brow indicated she was pondering something of a more serious nature.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Mr. Bingley."

Elizabeth's brows shot up to her hairline. He was the last person she thought would be occupying her sister's thoughts. After the initial shock wore off, she realized that she was not surprised at all. Her kind-hearted sister no doubt felt sorry for the poor, misguided gentleman. Jane never liked to see any soul, however unworthy, in pain. If Elizabeth was surprised by the object of her sister's thoughts, the next words from her sister's mouth rendered her speechless.

"I'm thinking about how grateful I am to him."

Elizabeth stared, unblinking, at her poor, deluded sister.

Jane laughed at Elizabeth's expression. "I'm serious, Lizzy. I am grateful to Mr. Bingley."

Elizabeth blinked as those five words penetrated her mind. She shook her head. "Forgive me. But it sounded like you said you were…grateful," she spat, "to that…that…." She stopped as she failed to find a sufficiently appropriate word in the English language to describe that man.

"I'm grateful to Mr. Bingley for taking Richard's letter."

Elizabeth laid a hand on Jane's forehead. The only reasonable explanation was her sister must be ill…or delusional. Even Jane's limitless compassion towards her fellowman had limits.

Jane took Elizabeth's hand from her forehead with an exasperated sigh. "I'm quite serious, Lizzy. I owe my current state of happiness to Mr. Bingley."

Elizabeth eyed her possibly brain-damaged sister. But she loved Jane and would give her an opportunity to explain her shocking declaration. With a calmness she didn't feel, she asked, "How is Mr. Bingley responsible for your happiness?"

She gave Elizabeth a triumphant smile. "If Mr. Bingley hadn't taken the letter, Richard would not have returned to London last night to attend the ball!" Jane grasped Elizabeth's hands. "Don't you see, Lizzy? Richard was waiting for my response to his letter. He knew that I would respond even if it was to reject him." Jane huffed, throwing her hands in the air. "Although I don't understand how the silly man could think that I would reject his suit!"

"Focus, Jane." Elizabeth laughed, more from relief that her sister didn't appear to be delusional than at her righteous anger towards her betrothed. Jane's reasoning, although illogical, was typical Jane. She would thank the pick pocket for stealing her money, reasoning that it was a lesson not be avaricious, that there were those whose need was greater.

"So Colonel Fitzwilliam proposed to you in that letter?"

Jane nodded, her eyes bright. "When Richard received Mr. Darcy's letter explaining how despondent I had become since his departure, he knew that I hadn't received his letter." A blush spread over Jane's features. "He couldn't bear the thought of me not knowing how he felt, so he came back." Jane was glowing, and Elizabeth idly wondered if she had been as moonstruck as her sister after Fitzwilliam proposed.

"So," Elizabeth began, "if you had received the colonel's letter as he had intended, you would have agreed to his offer of marriage. In a letter." Elizabeth made a face showing her distaste for that outcome, causing Jane to laugh.

"Yes. We would be engaged, but he would not know how I felt about him." At Elizabeth's puzzled look, Jane grasped her hands once again. "For I couldn't tell him that I loved him the first time in a letter, Lizzy. I couldn't do it." She released her hands, a serene smile on her face. "But it didn't happen that way. Richard came. He proposed, and I was able to tell that wonderful man what was in my heart."

She gave Elizabeth a brilliant smile. "So you see. It all worked out for the best." With a sly grin, she added, "And I owe it all Mr. Bingley's pilfering fingers."

Elizabeth's eyes sparkled with humor. "I'll be sure Fitzwilliam tells him when next he sees him in town."

~oOOo~

Darcy entered the small dining room to break his fast, not knowing in what state he would find his cousin. He had left Richard earlier this morning drunk as a wheelbarrow. He did not fault his cousin for such behavior as it was not every day that a confirmed bachelor got engaged. He had listened, patiently, while Richard extolled the virtues of his future wife in nauseating detail. But when his inebriated cousin began spouting poetry—badly—he decided that there were limits to familial forbearance and had retired for the evening.

So he was surprised to see Richard, sober and fully groomed, cradling a steaming teacup as he gazed out a window. Richard didn't acknowledge his presence in any way which gave him pause. His cousin was exceedingly observant, but he suspected that he hadn't even noted his arrival which was quite unlike him. Darcy poured a cup of coffee before sitting in his customary spot at the head of the table, reaching for _The Times _(1) left conveniently at his right elbow by his efficient staff. As he perused the headlines on the inside pages, he regarded Richard from the corner of his eye. It was obvious that something was occupying his thoughts so completely that he was not aware of his surroundings. He was much too contemplative for this early in the day.

Darcy left studying his cousin to give the paper his full attention. His countenance became increasingly grim the longer he read until he threw the paper on the table with a sound of disgust, draining his cup of lukewarm coffee. He didn't know why he bothered reading which always left him in a foul mood at the bumbling idiots who ran the country, the immoral behavior of the Prince Regent, and the tyrannical despot who was running around Europe intent on becoming another Alexander the Great. He glared at the offensive news rag until Richard's laughter caused him to look up. He hadn't even noticed that Richard had sat down.

"You are a creature of habit, my dear Cousin."

Darcy ignored Richard in favor of pouring a second cup of coffee. He had a feeling that he was going to need it today.

Not put off by Darcy's silence, Richard continued, "You enter the dining room, walking exactly fourteen steps to sit in the exact same chair. You stir your coffee three times clock-wise before tapping it once on the rim of your cup, and then proceed to peruse the paper before scowling at it as if it has mortally offended you." Richard tapped his lips. "Have I left anything out?"

"I'm not amused, Cousin." Despite his harsh tone, the corners of Darcy's lips twitched.

Richard grinned, a wicked gleam in his eye. "I only hope that when Miss Elizabeth does or says something that angers you, you won't throw her down on the table." His grin turned predatory. "Although, that may not be a bad thing—"

"Richard," Darcy growled in warning. He wished he could blame his cousin's humor on drink, but he appeared to be completely sober. Curse the man.

Deciding a change in subject was in order, Darcy asked, "What time did you finally retire?"

"I didn't." At his look of surprise, Richard shrugged. "I didn't want to risk sleeping in and miss taking leave of my fiancée." He winked.

Darcy placed his cup on the table, giving his cousin his full attention. When Richard had informed him the night before that he had only been given a forty-eight hour leave of absence, he had been astonished. But when his self-sufficient, proud cousin had admitted to using his lord father's considerable influence to obtain that leave of absence, he had been rendered speechless. When he had finally regained his power of speech and asked what had finally caused him to use his father's name to his advantage, Richard's one-worded response had been profoundly simple: Jane. That alone had convinced Darcy how deeply Richard had been affected by a lovely, blonde-haired maiden with cornflower blue eyes and a deceptively sweet disposition. He knew that nothing but the deepest love could make Richard offer up one of his most cherished fundamental values—self-sufficiency—in pursuit of the woman he wished to marry. His respect for his cousin had increased, not because he had made such a sacrifice, but that he was completely unapologetic for doing so.

Darcy had tried to convince Richard to ask for an extension of two days so he could see Georgiana. She had left for Ramsgate the day before, and she would break her journey at Rosings before continuing to Ramsgate on Saturday. He knew his sister would be devastated to know she had missed seeing him by one day.

"Are you sure you couldn't wait for Georgiana? If I send an express rider to Rosings, she could be here by tomorrow."

Richard looked horrified. "And risk our aunt coming as well? No, thank you."

"You know Aunt Catherine never comes to London."

Richard shuttered. "If anything would cause her to crawl out of her dark den of doom and end her self-imposed exile, it would be news of my engagement. Oh, wait. That's not right." Richard rubbed his chin, his eyes twinkling. "That would be news of _your_ engagement, dear Cousin." Richard smirked as Darcy scowled.

"I would stay if I could, but I gave Commander Burroughs my word." He ran a hand down his face, and Darcy realized just how exhausted his cousin must be after riding nearly fifty miles the day before, followed by a night of no rest. And he still had to make the return journey to Brighton.

"Unfortunately, training is not going well. We were originally supposed to sail for the Iberian Peninsula next Monday. But now it will likely be another fortnight before the men are ready."

This was surprising news to Darcy. He knew of Richard's formidable reputation in the army. He asked nearly the impossible of the men in his command, but he achieved results because he was as generous with his praise as he was with his censure. He led by example, holding himself to the same high expectations he had for his men. His men respected him and would do anything for him because he helped them reach their full potential by requiring nothing but their best effort.

"What is the problem?"

Richard sighed. "Colonel Forster's wife."

Darcy blinked in genuine surprise. "I beg your pardon? What does Mrs. Forster have to with training your men?"

"Everything," Richard grumbled. "The woman is a complete menace. She distracts the men when they should be focused on the task at hand. She is a horrendous flirt. She flaunts her feathers like a bird of paradise." (2) It's positively nauseating to watch.

"Perhaps you should talk to Colonel Forster."

Richard looked at him as if he were simple-minded. "I have. The man is utterly besotted with his new bride and won't hear a negative word against her.

"It would not be so bad if it were just my men I had to worry about," Richard continued. "They know I will not tolerate such behavior, but Commander Burroughs thinks it's a capital idea for Colonel Forster's regiment to practice the drills with us."

"Whatever for?"

"To simulate the conditions of war, of course."

"How? By having Mrs. Forster impersonate Bonaparte, sweeping through the ranks, causing destruction and mayhem as she goes?"

Richard snorted into his teacup. "The nation's finest brought low by a facetious female with a feathered turban."

"I suppose your men do need you more than poor Georgiana."

Richard looked at Darcy with understanding. "I'm truly sorry I cannot stay and wait for Georgiana, Darcy."

"Don't be sorry. I'm not the one she'll never forgive."

Richard laughed. "There is that. But I'd rather brave her displeasure than Commander Burroughs."

"What time do you need to leave for Brighton?"

"No later than two o'clock."

"What time are you meeting Miss Bennet?"

"Noon."

Darcy removed his watch from his waistcoat pocket. Seeing the current time, he looked at Richard with raised brows. "It's not yet ten o'clock. If you send your card now, you could have an extra hour with your betrothed."

"As pleasant as that would be, I'm afraid I have a previous engagement this morning."

It only took him a brief moment to deduce his cousin's words. "Bingley."

Richard nodded, his mouth grim. "Yes. Bingley."

"I'm surprised that you didn't ask me to be your second." (3) Richard must have thought he would try to talk him out of it as Bingley was his friend. It was likely the same reason why Bingley hadn't asked him either. It was rather sporting of Richard to hold the duel later in the day, giving Bingley time to recover from the ball. Not that he deserved any such allowance.

"Did you choose pistols or the sword?"

"I didn't challenge him to a duel."

"What?" Of course Richard would challenge Bingley. The only reason he hadn't already done so was because Richard had the greater claim. Bingley's reprehensible behavior in taking Miss Bennet's letter was more than sufficient reason for him to be called out. Friend or not, Bingley had to face the consequences of his actions.

Richard tensed, a murderous gleam in his eyes. "I'm not going to challenge him because if I faced him with a weapon in my hands, I would not be able to refrain from killing the bastard."

"What are you going to do?"

Richard's answering grin was feral, and he almost felt sorry for Bingley. "I'm going to pay him a little visit."

~oOOo~

Because Richard wished to maximize the time spent with his betrothed before he had to leave, Darcy suggested that they travel the short distance to Bingley's townhouse in his carriage so they could travel directly to the Gardiners' after they were completed with the unpleasant business with Bingley.

"Thank you for coming, Darcy." Richard settled back against the squabs as the carriage pulled away from the Darcy townhouse.

Darcy waved away Richard's thanks. "I have certain words for Bingley as well. Besides, you always perform more admirably when you have an audience."

Richard grinned. "True. Just promise me that you won't interfere."

"I would not dream of it. At least I know you're not going to kill him."

"I make no promises."

Darcy eyed the rather large knapsack at Richard's feet with curiosity. It appeared to be empty which didn't bode well for Bingley's continued existence. Seeing the direction of his gaze, Richard grinned.

The butler led them into Bingley's study to wait, and the minute they were alone, Richard went straight for Bingley's liquor cabinet.

"Liquid courage, Richard? Didn't you drink enough this morning?"

Richard ignored him as he knelt before the cabinet. He sat back on his heels, frowning at the elaborate lock. He looked at Darcy with raised brows.

Darcy sighed, walking to Bingley's desk, he opened the upper right-hand drawer and withdrew the key to the liquor cabinet. He handed the key to Richard, his curiosity piqued. Bingley had quite a few expensive bottles in that cabinet, several of which were acquired from Bingley's late father.

Richard unlocked the cabinet, opening the elaborate, lacquered doors to gaze at the contents within. He whistled in appreciation. He looked over his shoulder at Darcy. "Bingley was not lying when he said his liquor collection was impressive. There are bottles in here that even I haven't seen, and that is saying something."

Richard removed one such bottle and held it up. Darcy recognized it as a particularly old bottle of port that Bingley had inherited from his late father. He knew Bingley was saving it, but he couldn't remember why. Richard took the corkscrew from inside the cabinet, and after removing the cork, took a healthy swig directly from the bottle. Darcy winced.

"That is good port." Richard stood with the bottle in hand, looking around the room.

Darcy's confusion grew as Richard walked towards a large potted plant in the corner of the room.

"What…?" Darcy's question died on his lips as his cousin poured the twenty-year old bottle of port into the potted plant. He walked back to the liquor cabinet, placing the now-empty bottle on top of the cabinet before removing another bottle.

Richard repeated the same process half a dozen times with each of Bingley's more expensive and rare bottles of liquor, leaving the less expensive bottles untouched. Most of them were unopened, and Richard chortled in delight as he opened each one before pouring the contents into the potted plant and placing them in a row on top of the cabinet. Darcy calculated that there was several hundred pounds' worth of liquor swimming in the almost over-flowing pot.

Richard reached into the cabinet again, moving aside several less worthy options before pulling out a familiar bottle. He turned to Darcy with an accusing glare.

"You gave Bingley a bottle this incredibly fine, extremely illegal French brandy?"

"It was his birthday. And as I recall, I gave you two bottles of that incredibly fine, extremely illegal French brandy."

"That's not the point," Richard grumbled. He glared at the bottle for a moment, his expression torn before shaking his head. He stood and placed the unopened bottle of brandy in his large knapsack. "It would be a sin to waste," he said by way of explanation.

After he poured the tenth bottle into the potted plant, he turned to Darcy with a raised brow. "You've been quiet, Darcy. Have you nothing to say?"

"I feel sorry for the plant."

Richard laughed.

The door opened and Bingley entered, hovering inside the doorway, his demeanor more like a recalcitrant child awaiting punishment rather than master of the house.

Bingley's gaze darted from Darcy to Richard, his entire body tense. "Good morning, Darcy, Colonel." His voice was barely above a murmur.

Darcy wondered if Richard had a contingency plan if Bingley bolted. He knew nothing would deter Richard from meting out his particular brand of justice. Bingley took a cautious step into his study before stopping, his nose wrinkling at the strong smell of liquor permeating the air. His eyes widened when he spied the open liquor cabinet and the empty bottles lined in row on top. He strode to the cabinet, staring at its plundered contents with bowed head. As he reached out to touch a bottle, Richard threw the empty bottle in his hand against the fireplace, the shattered glass falling onto the hearth in thousands of glittering shards. The sudden sound caused Bingley to jump, and he spun around to stare at Richard with wide, fearful eyes.

Richard walked towards him with slow, deliberate steps, his expression eerily calm except for his eyes, which bore into Bingley with lethal intensity. Bingley moved away from cabinet, holding up his hands in a silent plea for reprieve.

He swallowed, his Adam's apple jumping. "Colonel—"

That was all he managed to say before Richard struck, punching Bingley squarely in the face with such force that his body slammed into the wall behind him. Bingley cried out, his hands covering his nose as he slid down the wall in an ungraceful heap. Blood trickled beneath his hands, staining his cravat crimson.

Richard stood over Bingley with clenched fists, the back of his neck as red as the blood dripping down Bingley's chin. He reached down and Bingley flinched, his head hitting the wall in his haste to get away. Richard tore open his jacket, his hand reaching inside the left breast and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper folded in half. Richard held it up so Darcy could clearly see what was in his hand.

Seeing the letter, Bingley attempted to stand, reaching out a hand on the wall behind him to support himself.

"Colonel, wait! I can explain—"

Richard growled, grabbing Bingley by the lapels of his coat and lifting him up he slammed him against the wall. "If I wanted an explanation, Bingley," he spat. "I would have asked for one."

He released Bingley and stepped away, spitting at his feet. "If you ever come near Miss Bennet again, I will not be so lenient next time. Do you understand?" His voice dripped with venom.

Bingley nodded, unable to meet his eye. He slid down the wall to the floor, his head bowed in shame.

Richard turned, and Darcy nearly recoiled at the murderous expression on his cousin's face, grateful that Richard was not his enemy. He picked up his knapsack, and with a single nod to Darcy, left the room.

Darcy stared at his one-time friend, huddled in a heap on the floor. He walked toward him, removing his handkerchief from his inner breast pocket. Satisfied that it was not one of Elizabeth's, he threw it in Bingley's lap.

"That is the only act of mercy you will receive from me."

Bingley looked up, his eyes full of pain and guilt. Darcy was unmoved. Bingley had made his choice, and now he needed to face the consequences of his actions.

Darcy sat in his customary chair, watching in stony silence as Bingley stood, stumbling to the chair across from him and fell into it with a painful groan. He raised Darcy's handkerchief to his nose to stem the slow trickle of blood. Bingley was fortunate that Richard hadn't broken his nose. He probed his nose with cautious fingers, hissing in pain. Darcy noted with disgust that Bingley's teeth were stained red.

Bingley glanced up at Darcy, before his eyes darted away. "I'm sorry."

Darcy's gaze hardened as he stared at Bingley. "What exactly are you sorry for, Bingley?" he seethed through gritted teeth. "For stealing a letter not intended for you? Or causing Miss Bennet, my future sister, emotional distress and pain?" He leaned forward. "Or perhaps you're sorry that you failed in your intent to compromise Miss Bennet at the ball last night so that she would have no choice but to marry you?"

Bingley's eyes widened, and he shook his head frantically. "No, no! It was never my intention to compromise Miss Bennet!"

Darcy scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "Forgive me if I don't believe you. Your actions speak for you."

"It's true! I swear it! It never crossed my mind to compromise Miss Bennet. I wished to speak with her alone so that I could return the letter!"

Darcy's jaw clenched, his anger growing as he stared at the imbecile before him. "Did it not occur to you that if you had been seen, it would have effectively ruined Miss Bennet's reputation and by association Elizabeth's?"

Bingley paled and slumped in his chair, closing his eyes in defeat. "I didn't think. I just wished to return it to Miss Bennet and pretend that none of this ever happened."

Darcy rubbed his forehead; he could feel a headache forming. Any sympathy he may have felt for Bingley disappeared with his confession. Bingley felt no remorse for taking the letter; he simply regretted being caught. The fact that he wanted to return the letter to Miss Bennet showed that he possessed a conscience, albeit a small one. But he didn't believe for one moment that Bingley had thought of anyone but himself in this entire debacle. If he had, he would have thought through the consequences of his actions rather than acting on impulse. Return the letter to Miss Bennet? At a ball? There were a number of ways he could have safely returned the letter without risking her reputation. But instead he had nearly caused Miss Bennet irreparable harm, forcing her into marriage with a man she didn't love and condemning his cousin to watch the woman he loved wed another. Darcy could think of no worse fate. No, he had no sympathy for Bingley.

"You could have returned it to me or even Gardiner. Why didn't you?"

Bingley dabbed at his nose, unable to meet his eyes. "I didn't want you to think less of me."

Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose. This is what came from never noticing that Bingley had begun to see him as a father figure or an elder brother rather than an equal. "I already suspected what you had done. Did you honestly believe that you could get away with it? That no one would find out?"

"Forgive me, Darcy." Bingley's eyes focused on his hands twisting the bloodied handkerchief rather than meet his gaze. "It was wrong. I see that now. I wished to put it right, but I failed."

Darcy stared at Bingley, his emotions in turmoil, and his resolve to sever their association wavered as he considered his request for forgiveness. Despite their long history together and close friendship, he could not forget the repercussions of Bingley's thoughtless actions: Miss Bennet's despair and Elizabeth's anguish on her sister's behalf. He could only imagine the desperation that Richard must have felt from the time he received his letter until he was granted permission to ride the fifty miles to London to secure Miss Bennet's hand, praying that he was not too late. But what hardened his resolve into something unbreakable was the image of Bingley fleeing the ball like a coward instead of facing the man whom he had wronged.

"No. I do not forgive you," he said with finality. Darcy stood, staring down at his one-time friend. He walked towards the door and, without looking back, said, "Good-bye, Bingley."

The closing of the study door signaled the end of a decade-long friendship which had begun at Cambridge, born from mutual necessity, nurtured from a shared grief in the passing of their fathers, until it had become a friendship that he had treasured. The past several years, however, the nature of his relationship with Bingley had changed to one of obligation rather than shared mutual regard. He realized that he didn't recognize the man whom he had just left, bleeding on his carpet. The man he had called his friend would have confided in him instead of taking such a drastic course of action.

Darcy descended the stairs to the ground level of Bingley's townhouse, and with each step, he tucked each good memory he had with Bingley over the years in a separate corner of his mind. For better or worse, Bingley had made his choice, and so had he.

As he neared the door, a voice he never wished to hear again called his name over the railing behind him.

"Oh, Mr. Darcy!"

He did the only thing a well-bred, and honorable gentleman could do in such a situation: he fled.

Darcy jumped into his waiting carriage as if the devil were on his heels, rapping his knuckles on the roof to signal the driver. He leaned back with a relieved sigh as the carriage pulled away.

"Why such haste?" Richard narrowed his eyes. "You didn't kill Bingley, did you? Because that would negate my extraordinary self-control in not killing him myself."

Darcy shook his head. "Miss Bingley," he responded with a grimace.

Richard shuddered. "Even worse."

Darcy's lips quirked. "I didn't expect you be in such high spirits." Darcy eyed the now bulging knapsack lying Richard's feet. He shook his head. One day Richard would go too far. "Do I want to know?" he asked with a long-suffering sigh.

Richard smirked, nudging the knapsack with his boot towards Darcy with a theatrical wave of his hand.

Darcy opened the top of the knapsack, wary of what he would find. He peered at the contents before reaching in a pulling out….

"Trousers?" he said, his tone incredulous. "I didn't realize you admired Bingley's tailor. If I had known, I would have assisted you in your pursuit of men's fashion."

Richard grinned, waving for him to continue. Darcy rolled his eyes when he pulled out another pair of trousers. After the trousers came the pantaloons, then the breeches. He piled the growing pile of stolen garments on the seat next to him, eyeing Richard who was grinning like a fool. The bag was still nearly full. He let out an exasperated sigh. "You stole all of Bingley's clothes, didn't you?"

Richard laughed, lacing his hands behind his head. "Nonsense. I left the shoes and stockings."

"How generous of you."

Richard leaned back against the squabs with a self-satisfied air, resting his hands on his stomach. "Bingley will have go to an inferior tailor until he can get an appointment with his usual tailor." He pursed his lips. "Although, given his current standing in society, that may never happen." He grinned. "He'll have to content himself with inferior workmanship for the foreseeable future."

Darcy blinked. Sometimes Richard truly frightened him. He was almost diabolical in his method of punishment. He had stripped Bingley of the two things that he prided himself: his appearance and liquor collection.

"What else did you do?" Darcy was almost afraid of the answer.

Richard gazed at the roof of the carriage, a deceptively innocent expression on his fiendish face.

"Richard—"

"I may have put a few drops of green dye in his favorite hair pomade." He paused, rubbing his forefinger over his lips, his eyes twinkling. "And sprinkled some powder in his small clothes that may cause a rash in a rather sensitive area."

"Why is it always green, Richard?"

He shrugged. "I like green."

Darcy sat up as something occurred to him. "This isn't the same green dye you used on Lynton's horses, is it?"

"It may be. It seemed a shame to waste a perfectly good dye."

"Richard," Darcy said in warning. "Lynton's horses are still dyed green, and I doubt Bingley will be starting a new fashion trend with green hair."

"What a shame."

Darcy gave a long-suffering sigh. "When are you going to grow up?"

Richard smiled. "Never. My Jane likes me just the way I am.

"May you be cursed with sons just like you."

Richard's eyes glazed over, his lips curving upward in a lazy smile; his entire demeanor was relaxed and content. He almost appeared half-sprung (4) which was entirely possible as he had indulged in a few sips from Bingley's expensive liquor stash. A minute passed, and Richard remained oblivious to everything but what was playing out in his head. Darcy cleared his throat to gain his cousin's attention. When that failed to rouse him, he kicked Richard's boot, causing him to bolt upright with a curse. He glared at Darcy.

"What was that for?"

Darcy raised his brows at his cousin's tone. "Save your fantasies for when you're alone, Richard. I have no desire to watch you drool."

Richard heaved a deep sigh and relaxed against the squabs, stretching his legs on the seat across from him; Darcy scowled at his cousin's booted feet.

"At least you will be able to marry your lovely fiancée soon," he grumbled. He regarded Darcy with raised brows. "I'm astounded that you didn't drag her to the nearest church as soon as you returned from gaining Mr. Bennet's permission. Why are you waiting?"

Darcy turned to gaze out the window as a familiar anger simmered in his stomach. He would be married to Elizabeth by now if not for her apathetic father. His anger abated as his eyes rested on his cousin who in a few short hours would have to leave his betrothed for the Peninsula for an unspecified length of time. In light of his cousin's sacrifice, waiting another week or two to marry Elizabeth was nothing. The carriage jerked to a sudden stop, and he could hear his driver yelling at some unseen obstruction before the carriage began moving again more slowly than before.

"Darcy?"

Richard must have sensed his anger for his expression immediately changed to one of concern. "What is it?" He sat up, his boots hitting the floor of the carriage with a dull thud.

Darcy rubbed his forehead. "The reason I have not yet married Elizabeth is because…." He paused, closing his eyes. "I did not obtain Mr. Bennet's permission."

Silence descended in the carriage for several heartbeats until it was broken by Richard chuckling.

"I believe I would like to shake the hand of the man who had the audacity to tell Fitzwilliam Darcy 'no.'"

Darcy felt his face flush in embarrassment. "This is not a joking matter, Richard," he growled. "This is my life!"

Richard raised his hands in a placating gesture. "You're right. Forgive me, Darcy."

Richard traced his lips with a forefinger, deep in thought. He dropped his hand into his lap with a sigh. "This doesn't bode well for me. If you couldn't obtain Mr. Bennet's consent, what hope do I have?"

Darcy snorted. "You're not marrying his favorite daughter. You just have to win over the mother."

"My officer's uniform will speak for itself. A woman cannot resist a man in a red coat." Richard winked.

Then Richard sobered, his smile dropping from his face. "What are you going to do?"

"Return Elizabeth to the bosom of her family as planned on Saturday. Mr. Bennet will consent to our marriage a week from Saturday as he promised. Until then, I will remain at Longbourn. Elizabeth and I will marry the following day if she wishes to be given away by her father. If not, she will return to the Gardiners' and be married from there."

Richard leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "I know how adamant you were that your engagement to Miss Elizabeth be kept a secret from Mrs. Bennet until the marriage papers were signed. What is your excuse for staying as a guest at Longbourn for a week?"

Darcy regarded his cousin, trying to gauge his reaction when he learned that he would have to pretend to be engaged to Miss Bennet. He feared Richard would be less than pleased.

He looked his closest friend directly in the eye, the man he trusted more than any other, and said, "I will act as if I am there on approval to marry…Miss Bennet."

Richard stared at Darcy with narrowed eyes. His jaw worked back and forth as he mulled over his words. "If it were anyone else, I'd punch first and ask questions later."

A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. "I understand. I wish it didn't have to be this way. But under the circumstances…." He dragged a hand down his face. "We have no other choice."

"I hate that woman," Richard growled. "And I haven't even met her yet."

"She doesn't improve on closer acquaintance. Even when she assumed I was there to ask for Miss Bennet's hand instead of Elizabeth's, she was a vile woman."

Richard leaned forward, running his hands through his hair. "What a mess." He shot Darcy a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry you have to do this, Darcy." He grinned. "I'm just glad I won't have to see it. I think I would punch you in the bone box (5) if I saw you make love to my Jane."

Darcy smiled. "If it makes you feel better, it was Miss Bennet's idea to act as my fiancée."

Richard swelled with pride. "I love that woman." He winked, leaning back and placing his hands behind his head.

Darcy looked out the carriage window as a very familiar townhouse came into view. "We're here."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Richard had opened the doors and jumped from the carriage before it came to a complete stop. Darcy grinned as his cousin practically bounded up the steps to the front door. He collected his hat and Richard's, which had fallen on the floor, before stepping from his carriage with practiced ease. As he climbed the stairs at a more sedate pace, he could practically see Richard vibrating with impatience. As soon as his feet hit the top step, Richard rung the bell.

Darcy watched in amusement as Richard bounced on the balls of his feet as if he were preparing to bolt inside the minute the door opened. He shook his head at his cousin's impatience, but he could not fault him for it. He would be acting the same way if he knew he had a limited amount of time to spend with Elizabeth before bidding her farewell for an unspecified length of time. His heart went out to Richard and Miss Bennet, and he vowed to do everything in his power to ensure that Richard spent some time alone with Miss Bennet before he left.

The door opened, and Darcy had to grab the back of Richard's coat to keep him from bowling over poor Simmons in his haste to get in the door.

Richard shot him a disgruntled look as he handed the butler his walking stick.

"Welcome, Mr. Darcy. May I say how good it is to see you again so soon, Colonel."

"Thank you, Simmons. Is Miss Bennet at home?"

"She is, sir, and is expecting your arrival. She is currently in the garden." Simmons paused. "Alone."

Richard looked like he wanted to kiss the man. "I thank you," he said with feeling. He turned to Darcy with a smile. "If you'll excuse me, my lady awaits." And with a wink, he spun on his heel and practically ran to the garden.

Darcy watched Richard disappear from sight with a small smile on his face. At least he didn't need to contrive a reason for Richard to be alone with Miss Bennet.

"I forgot to inform the colonel that my master wishes a word," Simmons said. Darcy could have sworn he saw a ghost of a smile on the old butler's lips. The old schemer. He forgot just how effective Simmons was at running interference. He had performed the same office for him and Elizabeth many times. The man most assuredly deserved a raise. Darcy wished there was something he could do that would not offend the butler's sensibilities. An idea formed in his head, and as it grew, a slow grin spread across his face. It was brilliant. And he was positive that Richard would agree with him.

"Simmons," he began, eyeing the butler speculatively. "How tall are you? About six feet?

"Yes, sir."

"How much do you weigh?"

If Simmons was surprised by the unusual questions, it didn't show in his expression. "Thirteen stone, sir."

Perfect. It was positively providential. He couldn't have planned it better himself. "In my carriage there is a large knapsack full of men's garments of the finest fabric made by the best tailor in London." He paused. "And a fine bottle of illegal French brandy." He sent a silent apology to his cousin. "My cousin and I would like you to have it."

Simmons blinked. "I don't know if I can accept it, sir. It would not be proper."

"The garments and brandy belonged to Bingley."

A momentary pause, then, "I believe I would be delighted to accept your generous gift. Thank you, sir."

A/N: Did Richard deliver? I hope you weren't too disappointed that he didn't challenge Bingley to a duel. It just didn't fit with how I wrote Richard's character; besides, I think my method was much more fun! Also, I debated with myself for a long time about the fate of Darcy's friendship with Bingley. But in the end, a complete severing of their friendship made the most sense. I just couldn't imagine my Darcy remaining friends with a man who had deliberately (and cruelly) hurt someone he cared about.

Just a side note: Yes, the Colonel Forster that Richard mentioned is the same Colonel Forster in P&amp;P, and that is deliberate on my part. You'll see why in a few chapters….

As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts. I thank each and every one of you for your reviews, favorites, and follows. You're awesome!

Much love,

MAH

Next chapter: Longbourn! (I mean it this time—the first scene is the journey to Hertfordshire. And if you recall, Jane has a habit of always falling asleep on long journeys, so ODC will have some "alone time." Whee!)

(1) _The Times_ was established in 1785 and is the most famous of English newspapers. It was a broadsheet paper without pictures but with narrow parallel columns of printed articles and advertisements running lengthwise down the page. The front page was generally dedicated to a wide range of personal and commercial advertisements while the inside pages contained domestic and foreign news, reports from the war in Europe, obituaries, society news, and information about the royal court.

(2) Bird of paradise: showy prostitute.

(3) Duels were still fought during the Regency. Although some duels were fought with swords, pistols were growing more popular. There were three main reasons for challenging a man to a duel: taking liberties with a female relative; accusations of cheating, defamation, or dishonorable behavior; and attacking someone physically. There were a strict set of rules that governed the behavior of any man involved in a duel called the Code of Honor. It was the injured party's right to call out the offender and to choose the type of weapon to be used. Each party would name their seconds, usually a close and trusted friend, to act on their behalf. One of the duties of the second was to try and prevent the duel taking place while maintaining the honor of each party. Oftentimes a simple apology or admitting an error would be offered in place of a duel. A duel had to be fought (or resolved) within 48 hours at a mutually agreed upon time and place which was usually early morning and at a location outside town.

(4) half-sprung: tipsy, mellow with drink

(5) bone box: mouth

The comment about Bingley's "pilfering fingers" I took shamelessly from a comment by the reader, juliana alicia miller—thanks!


	44. Chapter 44

Thank you to my wonderful beta, CassandraLowery for sticking with me even after my EIGHT month-long hiatus.

Chapter 43

Elizabeth gazed out the window of Fitzwilliam's carriage as it passed the outskirts of London. She took an unsteady breath, suppressing the nervous fluttering in her stomach as the carriage conveyed her closer towards Longbourn and the uncertainty that awaited her. She had never felt so conflicted upon returning to the place she called home. Her father's behavior and reticence towards Fitzwilliam left her feeling unsettled and confused. Why was he so adamant that she return unattached? He knew that she loved Fitzwilliam and desired to be his wife. Yet, her father had refused his consent! She expected such behavior from her mother, but from her father?

A boot gently nudged her foot, interrupting her darkening thoughts. Elizabeth turned her head, her furrowed brow melting into a reassuring smile at Fitzwilliam's concerned gaze. He sat directly across from her and Jane, reading aloud from _Shakespeare's Sonnets_. He turned a page, darting a glance towards her sister. Jane was nearly asleep, her head nodding with the sway of the carriage. She awoke in the sudden silence, and Fitzwilliam resumed reading.

Elizabeth reposed against the comfortable cushions as she listened to Fitzwilliam. The gentle cadence of Shakespeare's words spoken in Fitzwilliam's deep voice soothed her troubled spirit, calming her unsettled thoughts. Her hand slid off her lap to rest on top of her reticule. The distinctive sound of paper within caused the events of the previous afternoon to come rushing back with a heart-wrenching ache. Mr. Williamson's letter. She closed her eyes, her fingers tracing the outline of the letter through the fabric.

Upon learning of her imminent departure, Mr. Williamson had requested to see her one last time. Due to the pervasive nature of his illness, he was unable to leave his bed, so she had gone to him, accompanied by Fitzwilliam and her uncle. She had been astonished but unsurprised to learn that Fitzwilliam had relocated Mr. Williamson to better lodgings in a more reputable part of town and had engaged his personal physician to determine if anything more could be done for the dying man. When Dr. Brown's prognosis confirmed that Mr. Williamson was indeed dying, Fitzwilliam found an elderly woman to care for him in his final days.

Despite Fitzwilliam's warning that Mr. Williamson's health had deteriorated since she had last seen him, she was unprepared for the sight that awaited her. Mr. Williamson lay motionless on a bed too large for his gaunt frame, his body draped with white linens like a shroud. His labored breathing was the only sound in the still room, his jaundiced complexion pale and beaded with perspiration. She stood, frozen in shock, until Fitzwilliam's gentle touch on her back caused her to move, her legs drawing her to his side almost against her will. She sat on the chair by Mr. Williamson's bed, and after a brief hesitation, reached for his hand which lay cold and deathly still against the white sheet. At her tentative touch, his eyes opened, and he turned his head to stare at her with reddened eyes. He remained silent for several moments, staring at her with such earnestness that Elizabeth wondered if he were seeing her mother as he looked on her.

"Elizabeth."

Fitzwilliam's quiet voice brought her back to the present. She opened her eyes to see him leaning towards her, concern etched on his face. His eyes rested on the movements of her fingers; understanding dawning in his blue gaze.

"Did you read it?"

"I did not."

Fitzwilliam regarded her for a moment before responding. "I believe it was his unspoken intention for you to read it. It is not sealed."

She lay a hand over her reticule in an unconscious, protective gesture. "I know. But I could not bring myself to read his final farewell to my mother. It seemed…sacrilegious."

Fitzwilliam nodded but remained silent. He disagreed with her reasoning. He didn't feel that her mother deserved such respect. She understood his sentiments, but in this matter, she could not share them. Mr. Williamson's letter would only be read by her mother. Fitzwilliam leaned forward and took her hand, giving it a gentle tug.

Elizabeth bit her lip, a flush rising to her face as she moved to sit beside her betrothed. Fitzwilliam removed her bonnet, placing it beside his own discarded hat and gloves. He lifted her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist, removing her glove before performing the same office to its mate. She darted a glance towards her sister.

"She's fast asleep," Fitzwilliam murmured in her ear.

She turned her head to meet Fitzwilliam's vivid blue gaze, his face inches from her own. The enclosed carriage heightened the intimacy of the moment, causing Elizabeth's breath to quicken. Her eyelids fluttered shut as he pressed a kiss to her cheek, his mouth drifting closer to her waiting lips.

"I feel it incumbent upon me to take advantage of this opportune moment." Fitzwilliam pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Don't you agree?"

"Yes," Elizabeth breathed.

Fitzwilliam smiled against her mouth. As he pressed his lips more firmly to hers, the carriage jolted violently, causing their noses to bump together. Elizabeth stifled a laugh at Fitzwilliam's affronted expression. Once the carriage resumed its usual smooth ride, Fitzwilliam lowered his head to kiss her again just as the carriage went over another bump in the road, causing the carriage to sway precariously. Fitzwilliam grabbed her around the waist to prevent her from falling inelegantly at his feet. Unable to contain her mirth, Elizabeth laughed. Fitzwilliam grumbled his displeasure as he settled his arm comfortably around her waist.

Elizabeth leaned into Fitzwilliam's side, her gaze falling on her sleeping sister. Even in repose, Jane's face bore a worried frown. She had been unusually silent since the Colonel had left for Brighton, disguising her distress at his absence behind false smiles and empty platitudes. Despite Jane's insistence that she was well, Elizabeth understood her sister. Jane preferred to suffer in silence, unwilling to impose her burden on another. Elizabeth ached for her sister's unhappiness, and she prayed for a quick end to the war so that Jane could be reunited with the man she loved.

Fitzwilliam nodded towards Jane's sleeping form. "How is your sister?"

"She is too quiet, too withdrawn. I worry for her, Fitzwilliam."

Fitzwilliam's arm tightened around her. "I shall not be overt in my affections towards your sister when we arrive at Longbourn."

Elizabeth disengaged from Fitzwilliam's embrace so she could see his face, her eyes wide. "But my mother…."

"…Will never discover where my affections and intentions truly lie."

"I don't understand. If you don't pose as my sister's fiancée, then my mother could discover you are there for me."

Fitzwilliam shook his head. "You said yourself that your mother will assume that I am there for Jane regardless of how I act; nothing will dissuade her from that false assumption. I don't have to pretend to be engaged to your sister, and I can converse with you without raising her suspicions."

"Don't underestimate my mother, Fitzwilliam. She does not play by the rules of civility or propriety when she is close to achieving her desires. She will be tenacious and implacable."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I understand and shall heed your warning." He placed a finger under her chin, tilting her head up to meet her eyes. "I shall endeavor to keep my behavior towards you above reproach." He lowered his head, his gaze fixed on her lips.

Elizabeth smiled, leaning away from Fitzwilliam. "Perhaps you should begin now, Mr. Darcy. I believe you need the practice." She moved several inches away from his side, her eyes sparkling with good humor.

"No. I simply need to be more devious in my quest to be near you as often as possible without raising your mother's ire."

Elizabeth raised a brow at the unspoken challenge. When Fitzwilliam made no move to draw closer, she rested her head against the back of the well-sprung carriage and closed her eyes, a smile touching the corners of her mouth. Perhaps going home would be tolerable after all.

~oOOo~

Elizabeth's heart began pounding in rhythm with the turn of the wheel as the carriage drove up the graveled drive of Longbourn, her palms damp as she slid her trembling hands into her gloves.

"All will be well, Lizzy." Jane's smile did not reach her eyes.

Elizabeth informed her sister when she awoke that she did not have to pretend to be Fitzwilliam's fiancée. Jane's only response was a brief nod of her head. With each passing day, Elizabeth's concern for her sister increased. She knew Jane was strong and would pull through, but it was painful seeing her sister so unhappy.

The carriage came to an abrupt stop. Fitzwilliam met her gaze, giving her a warm smile. "Are you ready?"

Elizabeth nodded, her mouth too dry to speak. Her family was assembled outside. The sight of her mother waving her handkerchief in greeting caused panic to rise within her. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. So much depended upon her ability to act indifferently towards the man sitting across from her. She must pretend that he was not the most important person in her life. Seconds later she was alone in the carriage. She could hear the effusions of her mother extolling her happiness at seeing Jane again and escorted by such a distinguished gentleman. She took another deep breath. One week. She could pretend for one week.

Elizabeth took Fitzwilliam's proffered hand, receiving a comforting squeeze as he assisted her from the carriage. Once she left the safe confines of Fitzwilliam's carriage, she felt as if she were leaving who she had become away from the disapproving eyes of her overbearing mother. She would be simply "Lizzy": the unwanted and unloved daughter of the Bennet household.

Fitzwilliam released her hand instantly and stepped away, staring straight ahead. Elizabeth squared her shoulders and stepped towards her waiting family.

Mary immediately came forward to embrace Elizabeth. Their greeting was drowned out by her mother exclaiming over Fitzwilliam.

"Oh, Mr. Darcy! How good of you to escort my Jane home!"

Fitzwilliam gave a shallow bow. "It was my pleasure to be of service to Miss Bennet _and_ Miss Elizabeth, Mrs. Bennet."

At the mention of her least favorite daughter, Mrs. Bennet's gaze fell on Elizabeth. She stared for an excruciatingly long time, looking Elizabeth up and down, an unreadable expression on her face.

Elizabeth regarded her mother with an enlightened understanding. Now that she knew of her mother's sad history with Mr. Williamson, Elizabeth could detect the unhappiness lurking in her mother's hazel eyes. It was the same sadness Elizabeth had seen in Mr. Williamson's green gaze.

"Hello, Mama."

Mrs. Bennet, unable to hold her daughter's gaze, looked away. She glanced back at Elizabeth before returning her attentions to her favorite daughter and her "suitor."

Elizabeth approached her father, her eyes alight with happiness at seeing him again, her anger towards him momentarily forgotten. She had missed him so! Regardless of his recent behavior, he was still one of the most important people in her life, and he would always hold a place in her heart. She walked towards her father, but he would not meet her gaze. She frowned. Before she could say a word, he turned away and said, "Shall we go inside?"

His face set in a frown, Fitzwilliam glanced her way before offering his arm to Mrs. Bennet, causing her to flutter and wave her handkerchief excitedly. Jane hesitated, looking back at Elizabeth before following her mother into the house.

Elizabeth stared at her father's retreating back, stunned, her heart sinking with dread. She caught Kitty's gaze, noting a curious expression on her face. She gave Elizabeth a timid smile before being pulled into the house by Lydia who was exclaiming that she was famished.

Elizabeth turned to her remaining sister. "What just happened, Mary?"

"Papa has been more withdrawn since Mr. Darcy's visit." Mary stepped back to better view Elizabeth. She looked her up and down in much the same manner as her mother had a moment before. But whereas Elizabeth felt her mother did so to find fault, Mary did so out of curiosity.

"Being in love suits you, Lizzy."

Elizabeth's brows shot up. "I beg your pardon?"

Mary tilted her head, regarding Elizabeth with a soft smile. "You are happy. Truly happy."

Elizabeth linked her arm with her sister's. "I am. Fitzwilliam makes me so."

Mary shook her head. "No. It is more than that," she asserted. "You are different. You seem…more confident, stronger. I believe Mama's censure will ever affect you the same way again."

Before Elizabeth could respond, Hill came to the door, her perpetually frazzled face creased in a rare smile to inform them that luncheon was ready. As they entered the house, Mary grabbed her arm.

"Wait, Lizzy. Before you go in, I must warn you…."

"Mary! Oh! Where is that girl?" Mrs. Bennet came bustling into the foyer, and seeing her missing daughters, resumed her rant. "You've kept us waiting long enough. What will Mr. Darcy think?" Mrs. Bennet shook her finger at Elizabeth. "If you turn him away with your thoughtless actions, Lizzy, I won't be responsible for what I may do!" Elizabeth discarded her bonnet, gloves, and pelisse as she walked, handing them to Hill before entering the dining room.

Elizabeth sat in the only available seat, between Mary and Kitty, which placed her directly across from Fitzwilliam. Each time their gazes met across the table, they averted their eyes. The meal progressed in a predictable manner with her mother monopolizing the conversation while attempting to ascertain the true purpose of Fitzwilliam's visit. Her father remained mostly silent as was his wont, save for the barest measure of civility shown to their guest. The meal was coming to an end, and Elizabeth was congratulating herself for maintaining her composure in such an impossible situation when her mother changed tactics for discovering the purpose of Fitzwilliam's presence.

"My stay is of an indeterminate length, Mrs. Bennet. But I plan to remain for at least a week, perhaps longer dependent upon your goodwill and hospitality, of course."

This answer pleased her mother immensely and she gave Jane a sly wink. "Oh, that is quite agreeable, Mr. Darcy," Mrs. Bennet enthused. "You will always be welcome at Longbourn."

Elizabeth hid her smile behind her glass at her mother's statement. She knew it would be quite the opposite when her mother discovered her engagement to Fitzwilliam.

"To ensure that your stay is as comfortable as possible, I have given you the room with the best view of the gardens. It is a little on the small side, but it is most conveniently located."

Elizabeth froze at her mother's words, a flush rising to her face. Surely her mother was not suggesting….?

"But that's Lizzy's room, Mama," protested Jane.

Mrs. Bennet waved away Jane's concern. "It is of little consequence. Lizzy doesn't mind." Her mother pierced her with a glare. "Do you?"

Elizabeth forced herself to remain calm, breathing slowly before responding. "Not at all." Elizabeth met Fitzwilliam's gaze. His face was inscrutable, but lurking in the blue depths of his eyes was barely repressed anger. She sent him a silent plea to remain silent. "Mama is correct, Mr. Darcy. The room affords the best view of the gardens." And was directly across from Jane's bedchamber! Had her mother no shame? And what was her father thinking to allow such a thing?

Despite Elizabeth's silent plea for Fitzwilliam to remain silent, he was quick to protest displacing Elizabeth for his benefit. However, her mother was determined. Elizabeth's ire towards her father reached new heights when he sided with her mother.

"You'll share with me, Lizzy," Mary whispered as they left the dining room. "I am sorry I was not able to warn you in time."

"It would have made no difference, Mary." Elizabeth didn't realize how true that statement would prove to be.

~oOOo~

Elizabeth dropped onto the seat in front of Mary's dressing table with a weary sigh, immensely grateful that the first day of this farce was over. Mary pulled the pins from Elizabeth's hair and with deft fingers unfastened each braid that contained her mass of curls. Mary shook out her hair, then brushed it in long, smooth strokes.

Her mother was behaving exactly as predicted. There was no doubt in Elizabeth's mind, or anyone else's for that matter, that Mrs. Bennet firmly believed that Fitzwilliam was there for one reason: Jane. It astounded Elizabeth that her mother had failed to notice the one major flaw in her assumptions: Jane's low spirits. Even her father, who was normally oblivious to such things, had eyed Jane with growing concern as the evening progressed. Jane had retired early, claiming a headache and fatigue from the journey. Fitzwilliam had been true to his word and had shown no special treatment towards Jane or herself. Indeed, he had spent most of the evening answering the inquiries of her two youngest sisters regarding London's latest fashions, much to her mother's confusion and Elizabeth's amusement.

Elizabeth turned over the brush in her hands as Mary braided her hair. She was satisfied with the day's proceedings except for one obvious exception: her father. She could not deny that he was avoiding her. Not once had he met her gaze or spoken a single word to her. When she attempted to approach him again this evening, he had excused himself and retired to his library, leaving her even more hurt and confused.

Mary paused in braiding Elizabeth's hair, studying her sister in the mirror. She laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Go talk to him, Lizzy. Your thoughts are so loud that you'll receive no rest until you do. And neither will I."

Elizabeth sighed, placing the brush on the dressing table with a resolute _thud_. Mary tied off her braid, laying it across her shoulder. Elizabeth stood. Mary was right. Nothing would come of waiting to confront her father except more anger and resentment. There had to be a reasonable explanation for his behavior.

The house was silent as she trod the well-worn path to her father's library. Her refuge. As a small child, the library had been forbidden. Indeed, one of her earliest memories was of her mother informing her and Jane that they were never allowed to enter the library or bother their father. Elizabeth's impressionable and imaginative mind had concluded that the library must be an enchanted place, full of wondrous things. It would be many years before she discovered how accurate that childish impression had been.

In those early years, her father had been kind but distant. He had taken little interest in the development of his children, seeing them only in the evening for an hour. He never visited the nursery or accompanied them on their childish adventures when the weather was favorable. Elizabeth had never wondered at his absence, or felt that she was missing something important from her young life because her mother had always been there: the center of her small, ordered world.

Then everything changed one unremarkable day in late August shortly before her eighth birthday. She was playing hide-and-seek with Jane and Mary and stumbled, quite literally, into the open door of the forbidden library. At the time, she was not thinking of the consequences of that unconscious act or of the long reaching effects it would have on her life. She only knew that Mary was coming and that she did not have a place to hide. It was fortunate for Elizabeth that her father was not within, for he likely would have sent her away immediately. She paused just inside the door, enthralled at what she saw; the game of hide-and-seek was forgotten when faced with the wonders that lay before her. Her feet moved from bookshelf to bookshelf, reverent fingers brushing the leather spines of countless books just waiting to be read. Her heart pounded with excitement, her eyes bright with her new-found discovery: a veritable feast for the mind.

Elizabeth had been blessed (or cursed, if one asked her mother), with a curious and insatiable mind, and was naturally drawn to books and any knowledge she could glean from its pages. Her mother discouraged such behavior, stating she did not wish to have a "bluestocking" for a daughter and that it was unseemly for a young lady to "fill her mind with nonsense."

She was eventually discovered by her father perusing an illustrated book of fairy tales. And far from turning her away or being angry at having his library invaded, he was delighted to discover her interest in one of the few things that brought him true pleasure. From that day on, Elizabeth was a frequent presence in the library. The first time she returned, she stood outside the closed door for nearly a quarter hour, her mother's frequent admonition to never enter ringing in her ears. Knowing what lay behind those closed doors acted as a siren's call, and she had been unable to resist its lure. She never looked back. Over the next several years, Elizabeth began retreating to the library with more regularity as her mother's censure and disdain became more frequent and spiteful.

The library became the one place at Longbourn in which she felt safe and protected, her father's presence acting as a barrier from her mother's constant disapproval. Under her father's guidance, her natural curiosity and love of learning had been nurtured and developed. By the time she was a young woman, her father was the center of her expanded world, the true embodiment of home.

Elizabeth watched her father, yet unaware of her presence, as he totaled the accounts for the week. She could always tell how much her mother and younger sisters had spent by the amount of brandy in his glass and the state of his thinning hair. Something must have alerted her father that he was no longer alone, for he suddenly looked up, staring in her direction. She knew he could not see her standing in the shadows.

"You should be in bed, Lizzy."

The weariness in her father's voice tugged at her hardened heart, but she steeled her resolve and took a confident step forward until she stood directly in front of him. For several moments they simply stared at one another, neither willing to break the uncomfortable silence.

Her father gave a weary sigh, draining his brandy glass. The sound of the glass hitting the desk was loud in the silence, making Elizabeth jump. With a resigned wave of his hand, her father gestured towards the chair in front of the desk. When she made no move to sit down, he refilled his glass. Elizabeth frowned.

Elizabeth was reminded of all the times she spent in this very room with her father, talking, discussing, debating, or simply sitting quietly while they each read or pondered in comfortable silence. There were countless memories that were ingrained into her very being, molding her into the person who was standing before him. She realized just how much she owed the man before her.

"I've missed you, Papa."

"Have you?" he muttered offhandedly.

Hurt by her father's dismissal, she said, "I always miss you when I am away."

He laced his hands on the desk in front of him, regarding her over the top of his spectacles. "Why are you here, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth's brows rose. Did he truly not know? "To ask why you refused your consent to our marriage."

"It is late. We can discuss this at another time."

Elizabeth shook her head, fighting back tears at her father's indifferent attitude. Why was he treating her thus? Perhaps there was some truth to Fitzwilliam's belief that her father was jealous. She dismissed that thought almost immediately, guilty that she had even entertained the idea. Her father was not so prejudiced, was he? She was not leaving until he explained his reasons to her satisfaction.

"No, Papa. We will speak of this now. You have been avoiding me since I returned. Why? Are you so angry with me that you cannot bear to look at me? Is it so horrible that I wish to leave Longbourn and marry Mr. Darcy?"

When her fervent plea elicited no reaction, Elizabeth's tenuous patience snapped. She placed both palms on the desk, leaning towards her father. "Please, answer me!"

His head shot up at her exclamation. He raised a finger. "Watch your tone. I will not have you speak to me in such a manner."

Elizabeth sat, her emotions in shreds. "Forgive me, Papa. Please, why did you insist I come home unattached?" Elizabeth raised her palms in a pleading gesture. "Why would you deny Mr. Darcy my hand in marriage, knowing it is what I truly desire?"

He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "You left Longbourn _six_ weeks ago. Is it so difficult to understand my reservations in this matter? That you wish to marry a man whom you have known for such a short time? Marriage is a decision that should not be made lightly. I would hate to see you unhappy in your marriage partner. I thought that once you returned to your family, you would realize that you had made an imprudent decision."

Elizabeth stared at her father with furrowed brows. His explanation was sound, but it did not escape her notice that he would not meet her gaze. She realized with sickening clarity that her father, the man she looked up to, respected, and trusted more than almost any other was _lying_ to her. But why? What did he hope to gain by it?

"Will you consent to our marriage, Papa?"

He regarded her for a long, tense moment. Elizabeth could not read the emotion evident in his eyes. "If your young man cannot be patient and wait to gain my consent, then he is not worthy of you. I will agree to your marriage when I am ready, not before. Good night, Lizzy." And without another word, he stood and departed the room.

For the second time that day, Elizabeth was left staring after her father's retreating back as he was swallowed up by the darkness. Elizabeth stood, emotionally numb and heartsick. She blew out the single candle flickering on her father's desk and walked to the door in complete darkness. She never once faltered or strayed from the familiar path as she retraced the steps she had walked just a short time ago. Her footsteps were sure, but her heart was shattered. Her father, the man she adored and relied on for nearly twelve years, had become a stranger. It would never be the same between them again. The enormity of what she had lost washed over her, and she staggered as if struck by a physical blow.

She stumbled the last few steps to her bedchamber door, groping desperately for the handle. She gave the door a desperate push, confused when she met resistance. She pushed harder until whatever had blocked the door shifted, and she fell onto the floor in her haste to get inside. She rose to her feet on trembling legs and saw her worn armchair in front of her. She stared at it in numb confusion. Movement in the corner of her eye caused her head to snap up, and by the light of a single, flickering candle she met the startled gaze of her betrothed.

A/N: Well, I'm feeling extremely sheepish right now. I'm so, so, so, sorry for the EIGHT month wait for this chapter. Nothing horrible happened to keep me from writing except my own procrastination and laziness. I've learned, the hard way, to never take "breaks." And by a break, I mean not writing anything at all, which is very, very bad for a writer. So, I've learned my lesson. *nods head* I can't believe it's been almost two years since I started posting _Remember Me_. It has been an incredible experience thus far, and it is because of you, my faithful readers. So, thank you!

We are finally at Longbourn. Yea! There is going to be interesting things happening the next few chapters. Yes, you'll finally know why Mrs. Bennet disdains ODG so, but I did give a rather big hint in this chapter as to the origins of her disdain. The why you'll just have to speculate ?. Believe it or not, this story is coming to an end in about…10 (11?) Chapters. I have an outline but I haven't yet broken it down by chapters.

I want to respond to two guest readers before we part. First, the comment by **vidya,** posted on 12/29: "Does that kind of love really exist or are we girls hoping for some[thing] impossible to occur?" By "that kind of love" I'm assuming you're referring to how I portray Darcy and Elizabeth's relationship. So, I'll start there. Yes, and no. While my husband is not Mr. Darcy (except for the blue eyes), in every Darcy and Elizabeth scene that I write I think of my husband and the emotions he evokes in me. As Elizabeth said of Mr. Darcy in _Remember_ _Me_: "He's not perfect, but he's perfect for me." If you are looking for a perfect person who completes you, and makes all your dreams come true, you'll be waiting for a long, long time. You have a large part to play in your own HEA. As my mother told me, "Be the type of person you want to marry. What you value will draw that type of person to you." If you value intelligence, humor, physical fitness, etc., cultivate those characteristics in yourself. Then LIVE YOUR LIFE. Have faith, trust that the right one will come along in due time.

When I met my husband almost 12 years ago (Friday May 13, 2005), I was not looking to fall in love. My mother had a terminal illness. I had a job that I loved as a special ed teacher working with adults (18-22) with severe disabilities. I also worked part-time at Barnes and Noble (30% employee discount!), and I was volunteering for my church 5-6 hours a week. I was BUSY! Then, I met my future spouse, and all I can say is everything fell into place. Literally. We decided to get married after four weeks. From our first date to getting married was 84 days. What?! Yep, you heard that right. _Eighty-four_ days. I knew on our second date that I was going to marry him. I have never been more certain of anything before (or since!) in my entire life. I just _knew_. In many ways we are complete opposites: he's a morning person, I'm a night owl; he's spontaneous, I'm…not; he likes salty, I prefer sweet; he's a natural communicator, and me? Well…you have to dig deep to find out what I'm feeling. He likes westerns! Ugh! But I was immediately drawn to him because we valued the same things, and we just clicked. And he speaks fluent Italian ?

Now, back to Darcy and Elizabeth's relationship: the length of their courtship will be the same as mine—84 days. So break out that 1812 calendar and start counting. Their "first date" is the tea at Gardiner House (their time spent in the garden), and the opera is their "second date" when Elizabeth knew she was going to marry Darcy. Also, the idea of Darcy writing Elizabeth a letter every day I shamelessly stole from my brother-in-law. He has written a letter to my sister every single day since their marriage almost 8 years ago. *Sigh* So yes, I firmly believe in true love, and love at…second sight ?

As for the second guest reviewer, The READER, who posted the following on 8/28: "What would you recommend to us who want to get better at Regency colloquialism?" It's funny that you should ask this. Shortly after I posted the last chapter (EIGHT months ago—ugh!), I stumbled across a website of an author who had compiled a list of every single word that Jane Austen used in her novels and personal letters. Every. Single. Word. Yes, you read that right. Over 14,000 words that Jane Austen(!) used in her writing. And I'm going to share it with you, because it really is too good to keep to myself. The author who compiled the list is Mary Robinette Kowal (her books are amazing, btw). Go to her author website: . Then just type, Jane Austen word list in the search engine and voila! You're welcome.

You're all awesome!

Until next time,

MAH


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